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Lib.  10M-F.'35 


1  The  Companion  Library,  j 


Number  14. 


PERRY  MASON  &  COMPANY, 
Boston,  Mass. 


♦♦The  Companion  Library 


Is  a  collection  of  stories,  travel-sketches  and  descriptive  articles,  complete, 
exact,  and  so  interesting  as  to  meet  the  need  of  all  who  want  "a 
book  for  the  leisure  hour."  It  is  made  up  from  the  works  of  some  of  the 
best  writers  for  The  Youth's  Companion. 

The  Library  comprises  the  following  volumes,  each  containing  sixty- 
four  pages,  illustrated  and  bound  uniform  with  this  book: 

No.  I.  Stories  of  Purpose  :    Bravery,  Tact  and  Fidelity. 

No.  2.  Glimpses  of  Europe :    Travel  and  Description. 

No.  3.  The  American  Tropics  :    Mexico  to  the  Equator.  \ 
No-  4.  Sketches  of  the  Orient:    Scenes  in  Asia. 
No.  5.  Old  Ocean :    Winds,  Currents  and  Perils. 
No.  6.  I/ife  in  the  Sea:    Fish  and  Fishing. 

No.  7.  Bits  of  Bird  I/ife :    Habits,  Nests  and  Eggs. 

No.  8.  Our  IVittle  Neighbors:    Insects,  Small  Animals. 
No.  9.  At  Home  in  the  Forest:    Wild  Animals. 
No.  ID.  In  Alaska :  Animals  and  Resources. 
No.  II.  Among  the  Rockies :    Scenery  and  Travel. 
No.  12.  In  the  Southwest:    Semi-Tropical  Regions. 
No.  13.  On  the  Plains :    Pioneers  and  Ranchmen. 

No.  14.  The  Great  Lake  Country :    A  Land  of  Progress. 
No.  15.  On  the  Gulf:   Attractive  Regions  of  Contrasts. 
No.  16.  Along  the  Atlantic :    New  York  to  Georgia. 

No.  17.  In  New  ^England:    The  Home  of  the  Puritans. 

No.  18.  Stories  of  Success:    Skill,  Courage  and  Perseverance. 
No.  19.  Stories  of  Kindness :    Examples  for  Rich  and  Poor. 
No.  ao.  Student  Stories:    Life  in  School  and  College. 

Price  10  Cents  Each,  Post-paid. 

PERRY  MASON  &  COMPANY,  Publishers, 
201  Columbus  Avenue.  BOSTON,  MASS. 


...THE... 

Great  Lake  Country. 


The  Companion  Library. 

Number  Fourteen.  . 


SELECTIONS 
From  The  Youth's  Companion. 


CONTENTS. 

HARNESSING  NIAGARA  CURTIS  BROWN. 

THE  ST.  CLAIR  TUNNEl  H.  G.  PROUT. 

WINTER-FISHING  ON  SAGINAW  BAY  ...     CHARLES  ELLIS. 

DOG-SLEDGES  IN  MICHIGAN  ....  MERCIA  ABBOTT  KEITH. 
THE  ISHPEMING  DOG-RACE  .....  HORACE  J.  STEVENS. 
A  WISCONSIN  SKATE-SAIL  ...       .    A.  W.  WHITNEY. 

A  TRIP  TO  LAKE  SUPERIOR  .       .         SAMUEL  W.  COZZENS. 

HOP-PICKING  IN  CENTRAL  NEW  YORK  .       .    JOHN  H.  ADAMS. 

CHARCOAL-BURNERS  E.  B.  FlNDLAY. 

NATURAL  GAS  KIRK  MUNROE. 

AN  OIL-COUNTRY  CRATER  EARLE  H.  EATON. 

THE  MOUND-BUILDERS  PROF.  H.  W.  HENSHAW. 

MAMMOTH  CAVE   .       .        H.  C.  HOVEY. 


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57 


Copyright,  1898. 
PERRY  MASON  &  COMPANY, 

Boston,  Mass, 


Harnessing  Niagara. 


If  you  imagine  a  line  of  very  strong  horses,  harnessed 
tandem,  extending  eight  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  from  Boston 
almost  to  Chicago,  all  pulling  steadily,  you  will  get  some  idea 
of  the  amount  of  power  which  it  is  expected  will  be  taken  from 
Niagara  Falls  by  water-wheels,  and  distributed  chiefly  in  the 
form  of  electricity. 

Between  three  and  four  million  dollars  have  been  spent  in 
digging  the  tunnel  and  wheel-pit  from  which  the  first  instalment 
of  the  power  is  supplied,  and  much  more  money  will  be  used  to 
develop  the  full  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  horse-power 
for  which  the  plans  provide. 

No  one  can  tell  at  present  just  how  far  this  enormous  force 
will  be  sent ;  but  some  of  the  best  engineers  believe  that  it  will 
be  made  to  turn  mill-wheels,  light  streets  and  even  light  and 
heat  houses  throughout  the  greater  part  of  New  York  State, 
a  large  territory  in  Canada,  and  perhaps  here  and  there  in 
neighboring  states. 

Yet  the  great  cataract  will  not  be  robbed  of  much  of  its 
strength ;  for  it  is  estimated  that  the  horse-power  of  Niagara 
Falls  is  nearly  five  million,  nine  hundred  thousand — the  greatest 
that  nature  has  concentrated  at  any  one  place  on  the  globe 
except,  possibly,  the  yet  unmeasured  Victoria  Falls  of  the 
Zambesi.  It  has  been  said  that  all  the  coal  mined  in  the  world 
would  barely  supply  the  steam-pumps  which  would  be  needed  to 
pump  back  the  water  that  flows  over  the  Falls. 

When  the  water  required  to  create  four  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  horse-power  is  drawn  from  the  river  above  the  Falls 
and  sent  to  the  gorge  below  by  a  short  cut  through  tunnels,  the 
great  cataract  will  be  lowered  about  seven  inches  only,  and 
the  loss  will  hardly  be  noticed. 

Plans  for  using  Niagara  Falls  to  run  machinery  had  been 
considered  for  half  a  century,  but  it  was  not  until  i886  that  the 


4 


HAKNK.S,SING  NIAGARA. 


necessary  permission  to  use  Niagara  water  was  asked  and 
obtained  from  the  New  York  Legislature.  Four  years  later 
money  for  the  undertaking  had  been  supplied  by  capitalists  and 
banking  houses. 

An  International  Niagara  Commission,  under  the  presidency 
of  Sir  William  Thomson,  of  England,  now  Lord  Kelvin,  was 

formed  to  invite  the  lead- 
ing engineers  of  Europe 
and  America  to  submit 
plans  for  harnessing  the 
cataract  without  marring 
its  beauty. 

Twenty-six  plans  were 
submitted,  and  from  these 
the  company's  engineers 
devised  the  designs  finally 
adopted. 

On  October  4,  1890, 
the  first  spadeful  of  earth 
was  dug,  and  from  that 
time  the  work  was  hurried 
with  all  possible  speed. 
Told  in  the  simplest  way, 
the  undertaking  consists  of  a  number  of  deep  holes  in  the 
ground,  one  much  larger  than  the  rest,  each  with  water-wheels 
at  the  bottom.  The  water  from  the  Niagara  River  is  carried 
to  these  pits  by  a  canal,  led  down  to  the  wheels  in  pipes 
and  then  off  to  the  lower  river  through  a  tunnel  which  connects 
all  the  pits. 

All  who  have  visited  Niagara  will  remember  that  the  river 
turns  almost  at  a  right  angle  at  the  Falls.  The  tunnel,  stretching 
from  a  point  near  the  river  a  mile  and  a  half  up-stream  from 
the  American  Fall  to  a  point  about  one  thousand  feet  below  the 
American  Fall,  forms,  roughly,  the  hypothenuse  of  a  right- 
angled  triangle,  the  Falls  being  at  the  right  angle. 

The  canal  through  which  water  from  Niagara  flows  to  the 


HAKNKSvSING  NIAGARA. 


5 


tunnel  leads  in  from  the  river  about  two  thousand  feet.  Along 
the  sides  are  a  score  of  inlets  controlled  by  massive  gates.  Ten 
inlets  open  through  the  thick  masonry  which  lines  the  main 
wheel-pit,  and  each  leads  into  a  steel  pipe  called  a  penstock, 
about  as  large  around  as  an  ordinary  street-car. 

The  penstocks  run  straight  down  one  hundred  and  forty  feet 
and  discharge  into  a  turbine,  consisting  of  a  pair  of  water-wheels, 
whose  shaft  extends  upward  beside  the  penstock  into  the 
power-house  built  directly  over  the  pit. 

When  one  of  the  gates  is  raised  by  a  delicate  electrical 
apparatus  which  controls  it,  water  from  the  canal  pours  in  and 
flows  down  the  penstock,  or  water-pipe,  pressing  into  the  turbine 
with  a  force  of  five  thousand  horse-power.  After  passing  through 
the  wheels  the  water  travels  on  from  a  discharge  tunnel  at  the 
end  of  the  wheel-pit  out  into  the  main  tunnel. 

The  largest  pit,  which  was  completed  on  the  first  day  of 
January,  1894,  is  one  hundred  and  seventy-eight  feet  deep, 
twenty-one  feet  wide,  and  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  long.  At 
present  there  is  room  for  only  four  penstocks. 

It  is  not  easy  to  imagine  a  hol'e  pulled  up  out  of  the  ground, 
but  the  masonry  that  lines  this  wheel-pit  is  so  thick  and  strong 
that  if  the  pit  could  be  pulled  up,  its  walls  probably  would  stand 
firm  like  a  giant  chimney.  The  chief  interest  lies  in  this  main 
wheel-pit,  for  it  is  here  that  electricity  is  to  be  generated  for 
distribution  through- 
out the  neighboring 
country. 

The  smaller  pits 
are  to  supply  water- 
power  direct  to  the 
various  mills  that  will 
cluster  around  the  in- 
let canal.  The  turbines  at  the  bottom  of  one  of  these  smaller  pits 
are  now  turning  the  wheels  of  the  largest  paper-mill  in  the  world. 

The  tunnel  itself  simply  carries  off  the  water  that  has  done 
its  appointed  work.    Yet  its  construction  has  been  the  most 


Profile  of  the  Tunne 


6 


HARNEvSSING  NIAGARA. 


difficult  part  of  the  whole  undertaking,  keeping  many  hundred 
men  busy  more  than  two  years,  costing  in  round  numbers  a 
million  and  a  quarter  dollars  ;  and  worse  yet,  costing  twenty- 
seven  lives,  through  various  accidents. 

The  tunnel  slopes  gently  down  from  the  bottom  of  the 
wheel-pit  to  the  portal,  just  beyond  the  new  suspension  bridge, 

a   mile   and  a  third 
distant,   passing  be- 
neath the  busiest  part 
of  the  city  of  Niagara 
Falls    and  almost 
T-  directly  under  the  Central 

Railroad  Station,  where  most 
visitors  to  the  Falls  alight. 
The  tunnel  is  shaped  like  a 
horseshoe ;  it  is  twenty-one  feet 
high,  eighteen  feet  and  ten  inches 
across  the  broadest  part  and  nearly 
four  feet  narrower  at  the  bottom. 
Its  whole  length  was  blasted  and 
'   ----  --  through  limestone  rock  and 

-  '  '  "  shale,  of  which  enough  was  taken 

The  Outlet.  make  twenty  acres  of  valu- 

able real  estate,  when  dumped  along  the  shore  of  the  river. 
This  rocky  river-bed,  two  hundred  feet  underground,  is  lined 
with  from  four  to  six  rings  of  brick  especially  prepared  to  resist 
wear  and  tear  by  the  water. 

The  outlet  from  which  the  water  flows  into  the  river  looks 
from  above  like  a  commonplace  black  hole  down  by  the  water's 
edge.  Yet  it  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  solid  pieces  of 
masonry  ever  built.  It  rests  on  a  ledge  of  sandstone  forty  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  river,  and  is  built  up  as  strongly  as  steel 
and  stone  and  cement  can  make  it. 

It  is  well  that  it  should  be  strong,  for  it  must  withstand  for 
many  years  to  come  the  action  of  the  current  without,  which 
boils  and  foams  as  it  swirls  down  from  the  rocks  below  the 


HARNKSSING  NIAGARA. 


7 


Falls,  as  well  as  the  tearing  rush  of  the  waters  within,  which 
pour  down  a  steep  incline  at  the  end  of  the  tunnel. 

The  shaft  from  each  turbine  down  in  the  main  wheel-pit 
extends  up  through  the  floor  of  the  power-house,  to  connect 
with  the  revolving  part  of  a  dynamo  capable  of  converting 
five  thousand  horse-power  into  electricity,  which  can  be  sent 
easily  over  wires  for  many  miles  in  any  direction,  and  at  the 
end  of  its  journey  can  be  changed  back  into  the  original  form 
of  power. 

The  process  is  a  good  deal  like  sending  money  by  mail. 
Silver  dollars  could  not  be  carried  easily  in  a  letter,  but  they 
may  be  exchanged  for  a  money-order  which,  at  the  end  of  its 
journey,  can  be  changed  back  into  silver  dollars. 

Each  dynamo  has  its  own  water-gate,  water-pipe,  water-wheel 
and  shaft,  forming  practically  separate  and  independent  power- 
plants  good  for  five  thousand 
horse-power  each.  For  a  short 
distance,  at  least,  the  electric 
current  is  to  be  sent  out  on 
underground  wires  carried  in 
a  subway  big  enough  to  walk 
through  without  stooping. 

When  it  is  sent  to  greater 
distances,  however,  it  prob- 
ably will  be  carried  on  poles, 
like  the  trolley  wires  for 
electric  street-cars. 

As  the  use  of  electricity 
could  not  be  very  great  at 
first,  the  wheel-pit  was  com- 
pleted to  turn  four  turbines 
capable  of  producing  twenty 
thousand  horse  -  power.  As 
more  power  is  needed  the  extension  of  the  wheel-pit  will  make 
room  for  six  more  turbines,  until  fifty  thousand  horse-power 
can  be  generated  there,  and  the  tunnel  is  filled  to  half  its 


8 


HARNESSING  NIAGARA. 


capacity.  The  other  half  is  needed  for  the  smaller  water- 
power  pits  that  will  empty  into  it. 

The  company  has  secured  the  right  to  dig  another  tunnel  of 
the  same  size  as  the  present  one,  and  with  wheel-pits  to  match. 

Beside  this,  practically  the  same  company  has  bought 
permission  from  the  Canadian  government  to  dig  two  wheel-pits 
and  tunnels  on  the  Canada  side,  solely  for  the  generation  of 
electricity.  The  plan  is  to  build  the  first  of  these  wheel-pits 
and  the  power-house  to  match  close  to  the  brink  of  the  Horseshoe 
Fall,  at  the  foot  of  the  high  bank  directly  underneath  the  Falls 
View  Station.  The  tunnel  will  slope  down  from  the  bottom  of 
the  pit  four  hundred  feet  to  the  river  below  the  fall. 

Each  of  the  Canadian  tunnels  is  to  carry  away  the  water 
needed  to  generate  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand 
horse-power.  The  total  capacity  of  the  plants  to  be  built  on 
both  sides  of  the  river  will  be,  therefore,  four  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  horse-power. 

The  chief  uncertainty  about  electricity  is  that  it  seems  to 
leak  from  the  wires.  The  longer  the  journey  it  makes  the 
more  of  it  is  lost  by  the  way,  and  consequently  the  more  it 
will  cost.  The  expense  of  sending  it  by  wire  or  subway  is 
also  heavy.  A  great  deal  depends  on  this  question  of  price. 
How  far  can  electricity  be  sent  without  a  loss  that  will  make 
its  cost  equal  to  steam-power  ?  Upon  that  question  depends 
whether  Niagara's  power  shall  be  used  only  near  by  the  great 
cataract,  or  whether  it  shall  be  sent  broadcast.  Inventions 
have  been  made  recently  which,  it  is  believed,  will  make  it 
possible  to  carry  electricity  a  great  distance  without  a  loss 
large  enough  to  make  its  cost  equal  that  of  coal. 

Nikola  Tesla,  the  brilliant  young  electrician  who  astonished 
scientists  by  proving  that  an  electrical  current  can  be  created 
which  will  pass  through  the  upper  air  without  wires  to  conduct 
it,  says,  "  The  current  from  Niagara  Falls  can  be  taken  as  far 
as  New  York  city  without  great  loss,  and  I  believe  that  before 
long  we  shall  be  able  to  take  it  any  distance." 


Curtis  Brown. 


The  St.  Clair  Tunnel. 

No  other  profession  is  so  much  like  war  as  civil  engineering. 
The  chief  engineer,  like  the  general,  must  make  his  plans  with 
the  greatest  patience  and  care.  He  must  know  the  exact  facts 
and  guess  at  nothing.  When  he  cannot  avoid  guessing,  he 
must  weigh  all  the  chances  with  careful  judgment ;  and  when 
he  has  done  his  best  he  may  meet  sudden  and  unlooked-for 
emergencies,  in  which  all  his  care  will  not  save  his  work  from 
ruin. 

Of  all  engineering  work  that  which  is  least  certain  is 
driving  tunnels  under  rivers  or  other  bodies  of  water.  Usually 
the  tunnel  must  be  driven  in  clay  or  river  silt  or  sand  and 
gravel,  with  more  or  less  loose  rock  and  boulders.  The  trouble 
is  to  keep  a  tight  roof,  and,  if  the  material  is  very  soft,  to  keep 
the  tunnel  itself  in  shape. 

The  St.  Clair  Tunnel  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  in  the 
world.  The  tunnel  is  six  thousand  feet  long,  about  a  mile  and 
one-seventh.  Including  the  open  cuttings  on  each  end,  the 
excavation  extends  eleven  thousand  six  hundred  feet,  about 
two  miles  and  one-fifth. 

The  tunnel  was  driven  through  blue  clay.  Above  flows  a 
swift  river,  forty  feet  deep.  Between  the  tunnel  and  the  water 
are  from  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  of  clay,  sand  and  gravel. 

The  novelty  and  magnitude  of  this  work,  the  difficulties 
met,  and  the  boldness  and  speed  with  which  it  was  done,  have 
made  it  a  matter  of  great  interest  to  engineers  all  over  the 
world. 

The  Grand  Trunk  Railway  crosses  the  St.  Clair  River 
from  Sarnia,  Ontario,  to  Port  Huron,  Michigan.  On  the  St. 
Clair  River  there  is  a  shipping  commerce  five  times  as  great  as 
that  which  passes  through  the  Suez  Canal. 

The  river  is  from  half  to  three-quarters  of  a  mile  wide,  and 
the  current  flows  at  from  six  to  eight  miles  an  hour. 


THE  vST.  CI.AIR  TUNNKL. 


II 


For  many  years  trains  were  taken  across  on  great  ferry- 
boats. This  was  comfortable  enough  for  passengers,  but  it 
wasted  precious  time  ;  the  boats  were  expensive  to  keep  up 
and  to  operate,  and  in  winter,"  when  the  river  is  full  of  floating 
ice,  the  delays  and  cost  were  serious. 

To  carry  the  tunnel  through  clay,  with  occasional  pockets 
of  gravel  and  quicksand  and  with  a  great  river  flowing  only 
fifteen  feet  overhead,  and  to  protect  the  workmen  from  accidents, 
was  a  difficult  problem. 

It  was  decided  to  do  the  work  inside  of  steel  tubes,  called 
shields,  which  should  be  pushed  ahead  as  the  work  advanced, 
and  to  line  the  tunnel  with  rings  of  cast  iron  close  behind  the 
shields  when  they  were  driven  forward.  In  this  way  the  danger 
of  collapse  of  the  tunnel  would  be  avoided,  and  it  would  be 
practically  finished  as  fast  as  it  was  dug. 

One  shield  was  started  in  from  the  Michigan  side  and  one 
from  the  Canadian  side.  Each  of  them  was  a  tube  twenty-one 
feet  and  six  inches  in  diameter,  and  fifteen  feet  three  inches 
long.  It  was  made  of  steel  plates  one  inch  thick.  The  plates 
at  the  forward  end  of  the  tube  were  sharpened  to  a  cutting 
"edge  all  around  the  circumference. 

This  tube  was  stiffened  by  steel  plates  put  in  up  and  down 
and  crosswise,  dividing  the  inside  into  square  cells.  Five  feet 
from  the  back  end  of  the  tube  was  a  partition,  also  of  steel 
plates,  in  which  were  two  square  doors  near  the  bottom.  The 
men  worked  in  the  front  part  of  the  tube,  cutting  down  the 
clay  and  throwing  it  back  through  the  doors.  Then  it  was 
loaded  into  small  cars  and  hauled  away  to  the  rear  on  a  narrow 
railroad  track,  by  mules  or  horses.  There  was  a  second  track 
to  bring  in  the  empty  cars. 

As  fast  as  the  shield  went  forward  the  tunnel  was  lined  with 
rings  of  cast  iron.  Each  of  these  rings  was  twenty-one  feet  in 
diameter  and  eighteen  inches  long,  measured  in  the  direction 
of  the  length  of  the  tunnel.  The  ring,  being  of  less  diameter 
than  the  shield,  could  enter  the  rear  of  it ;  and  so  there  was 
always  a  complete  tube  of  steel  and  iron  from  the  face  of 


12 


THK  ST.  CLAIR  TUNNEL. 


the  clay  where  the  men  were  digging  to  the  entrance  of  the 
tunnel. 

Each  iron  ring  is  made  of  thirteen  pieces  of  cast  iron, 
each  piece  weighing  about  half  a  ton.  The  pieces  are  bolted 
together,  and  each  completed  ring  is  bolted  to  the  one  behind 
it  so  that  the  tunnel  is  lined  with  a  continuous  tube  of  iron  two 
inches  thick  and  water-tight.  The  cast-iron  lining  weighs 
about  twenty-seven  thousand  tons.  The  shields  were  pushed 
forward  by  hydraulic  jacks.  The  hydraulic  jack  is  a  cylinder 
into  which  water  is  forced  ;  and  the  water,  entering,  pushes 
a  piston  just  as  the  steam  in  a  locomotive  cylinder  pushes  the 
piston  to  one  end  or  the  other  of  that  cylinder. 

The  hydraulic  jack  can  be  made  to  give  power.  Each  shield 
had  twenty-four  of  these  jacks  in  the  rear  end,  placed  in  a  circle 
close  to  the  shell,  or  outside  plates  of  the  tube,  and  also  so  placed 
that  when  their  pistons  were  thrust  out  they  would  push  against 
the  cast-iron  ring  forming  the  lining  of  the  tunnel. 

They  could  push  with  a  force  of  three  thousand  tons  —  a 
power  sufficient  to  lift  up  bodily  a  large  ocean  steamship.  This 
tremendous  power  was  found  to  be  twice  as  much  as  was  needed 
to  force  the  shield  forward  into  the  clay. 

At  each  step  the  shield  was  pushed  along  eighteen  or  twenty 
inches.  Then  a  new  ring  was  added  to  the  tunnel  lining  ;  the 
clay  was  cut  down  as  far  as  it  could  be  done  safely,  and  carried 
away.    Then  the  shield  was  pushed  forward  another  step. 

This  was  all  very  simple  so  long  as  the  work  was  under 
the  dry  land  ;  but  when  it  reached  out  under  the  river  it  was 
necessary  to  find  some  way  to  keep  the  water  out.  Otherwise, 
when  seams  of  loose  material  were  struck,  water  would  have 
poured  in  and  flooded  the  tunnel,  and  stopped  the  work  entirely. 
To  prevent  this,  compressed  air  was  used. 

Every  one  knows  that  he  can  hold  up  a  column  of  water  with 
a  column  of  air.  Eet  him  fill  a  U-shaped  glass  tube  half  full  of 
water,  hold  it  upright,  with  the  open  ends  upward,  and  blow 
into  one  end  of  it. 

The  water  will  rise  in  the  other  leg  of  the  tube,  and  the 


THE  ST.  CLAIR  TUNNEL. 


13 


harder  he  blows  the  higher  the  water  will  rise  and  the  longer 
will  be  the  part  of  the  tube  free  from  water. 

Now,  if  one  could  put  a  fly  in  the  dry  leg  of  the  tube  and 
stop  the  end  of  it,  the  water  would  be  held  in  the  other  leg, 
and  the  fly  could  move  about  at  his  pleasure,  dry-shod. 

This  is  the  principle  on  which  compressed  air  has  long  been 
used  in  deep  foundations  and  other  work  under  water.  At  the 
St.  Clair  Tunnel  the  dry  leg  of  the  tube  was  the  tunnel ;  the  wet 
leg  was  the  river,  and  the  workmen  were  the  flies. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  in  all  of  this  description  I  speak 
of  one-half  of  the  tunnel.  It  was  built  from  the  United  States 
side  and  from  the  Canadian  side,  simultaneously,  and  the  work 


at  each  end  was  entirely  independent  of  that  at  the  other,  until 
the  headings  met  under  the  middle  of  the  river. 

A  brick  partition,  eight  feet  thick,  was  built  in  the  tunnel 
just  where  it  passed  below  the  edge  of  the  river.  This  was  to 
hold  the  air  in  the  tunnel.  The  air  was  pumped  in  through 
tubes  built  in  the  brick  partition,  and  the  pressure  was  always 
kept  up  to  the  point  where  it  balanced  the  weight  of  the  water 
overhead. 

It  will  be  understood  that  the  deeper  one  goes,  and  the 
higher  the  column  of  water,  the  greater  the  air  pressure  that 
must  be  carried. 

The  men,  mules  and  clay  cars  went  in  and  out  of  that  part 
of  the  tunnel  which  was  filled  with  compressed  air  by  means  of  an 
air-lock  in  the  brick  partition.  This  was  a  big  tube  extending 
through  the  partition  with  a  door  at  each  end,  both  doors 
opening  against  the  air  pressure  —  that  is,  toward  the  working 
end  of  the  tunnel. 

To  get  into  the  tunnel  from  without,  the  air  in  the  lock  was 


14  THE  ST.  CLAIR  TUNNEL. 

allowed  to  escape  until  the  outer  door  could  be  opened.  Then 
one  entered  the  air-lock,  shut  the  door  and  opened  a  valve  by 
which  compressed  air  from  the  tunnel  ahead  was  let  into  the 
lock.  When  the  pressure  there  was  equal  to  that  in  the  tunnel 
ahead,  the  inner  door  could  be  opened  and  one  could  pass  into 
the  tunnel.    To  get  out  the  process  was  reversed. 

The  painful  part  of  the  journey  is  in  the  air-lock,  at  the  time 
when  the  pressure  is  changing.  There  people  often  suffer  severe 
pain  in  the  ears  from  unequal  pressure  on  the  two  sides  of  the 
ear-drum,  and  sometimes  the  suffering  is  so  great  that  they 
cannot  go  on. 

After  one  has  been  a  little  while  in  the  compressed  air  the 
pain  ceases  ;  but  there  is  a  trouble  which  is  peculiar  to  working 
in  compressed  air,  and  which  disables  a  good  many  men.  The 
men  call  it  the  bends.  It  is  a  paralysis,  more  or  less  complete, 
of  the  muscles,  and  especially  of  the  muscles  of  the  legs. 

Sometimes  it  is  not  painful,  but  often  it  is  very  painful 
indeed.  At  the  St.  Clair  Tunnel  horses  could  not  work  in  the 
compressed  air,  but  mules  stood  it  well,  though  occasionallj^ 
one  of  them  was  visited  with  the  bends. 

The  pressure  of  air  carried  was  ten  pounds  per  square  inch 
at  first,  and  twenty-three  pounds  when  the  middle  of  the  river 
was  reached.  At  times  it  was  run  up  to  forty  pounds.  Of  course 
these  pressures  are  in  addition  to  the  normal  atmospheric 
pressure  of  fourteen  pounds  per  square  inch,  which  is  always 
present  on  every  body  and  every  surface  in  the  open  air. 

The  air  pressure  was  kept  up  by  pumps,  and  to  guard  against 
accident  there  were  two  sets  of  air-compressors  at  each  end  of 
the  tunnel.  If  the  supply  of  air  had  failed  for  a  moment  the 
water  would  have  rushed  in  and  drowned  the  men. 

Besides  the  air-compressing  plant,  machinery  had  to  be 
provided  for  pumping  out  any  water  that  drained  into  the 
tunnel  during  the  work,  and  other  machinery  for  lighting  it  by 
electricity.  There  were  hoisting  engines  and  derricks  with 
which  to  lift  to  the  surface  the  dump  cars  as  they  came  out 
loaded  with  clay. 


1 


THE  ST.  CivAIR  TUNNKly. 


15 


It  happened  repeatedly  that  the  shields,  as  they  were  forced 
forward,  entered  pockets  of  gravel  or  quicksand  going  deep 
down  into  the  blue  clay.  Then  the  air  would  escape  through 
the  loose  material,  and  the  water  would  begin  to  flow  in. 

Generally  this  could  be  stopped  soon  by  increasing  the 
quantity  of  air  pumped  in,  but  not  always.  Sometimes  the  air 
blew  out  through  the  bottom  of  the  river  so  fast  that  the 
air-pumps  could  not  keep  up  pressure  enough  to  stop  the  flow 
of  water. 

More  than  once  it  seemed  as  if  the  tunnel  would  be  flooded 
in  spite  of  all  that  could  be  done,  but  luckily  the  engineers  were 
always  able,  by  plastering  over  the  face  of  the  gravel  with  clay, 
and  by  working  the  air-compressors  up  to  a  pressure  of  as  much 
as  fort}^  pounds  to  the  square  inch,  to  hold  back  the  water  long 
enough  to  get  the  shield  through  the  loose  gravel  into  the  clay 
beyond. 

On  the  thirtieth  day  of  August,  1890,  the  shield  from  the 
United  States  shore  met  that  from  Canada,  under  the  middle  of 
the  river.  This  was  just  one  year  after  they  started  on  their 
strange  journeys  ;  and  I  do  not  believe  that  any  one  was  happier 
or  more  thankful  than  was  the  chief  engineer  of  the  St.  Clair 
Tunnel  on  that  August  day.  " 

H.  G.  Prout. 


Winter -Fishing  on  Saginaw  Bay. 

Most  boys  and  a  few  girls  know  something  about  fishing  for 
trout,  pickerel  or  bass  in  the  brooks,  ponds  and  rivers,  and 
many,  no  doubt,  have  fished  in  the  sea  for  cod  and  mackerel. 

Fishing,  in  fact,  is  a  popular  recreation  in  nearly  all  countries. 
For  this  reason  it  may  be  interesting  to  many  readers  to  hear 
something  of  a  method  of  fishing,  less  well  known  than  the 
tactics  of  the  hook  and  line,  such  as  is  practised  through  the  ice 
of  the  Great  Lakes  of  our  country  in  winter. 

But  first  let  me  ask  our  younger  readers  to  fetch  the  atlas,  or 
geography,  and  turn  to  the  map  of  the  State  of  Michigan,  and 
find  Saginaw  Bay,  an  indentation  in  the  northeastern  shore  of 
lower  Michigan,  about  seventy  miles  in  depth  and  sixty  miles 
in  width  at  its  junction  with  Lake  Huron. 

The  shores  of  this  great  Bay  curve  gradually  toward  each 
other,  until  they  reach  the  famous  Saginaw  River,  from  which 
the  Bay  derives  its  name. 

About  forty  miles  dovs^n  the  Bay  the  Charity  Islands  stretch 
across  its  centre,  and,  to  some  extent,  protect  it  against  the  wild 
northeast  storms  of  that  region. 

In  mild  winters  there  is  always  open  water  above  the  Charity 
Islands,  and  the  ice,  from  five  to  ten  inches  thick,  is  often  more 
or  less  broken  up,  and  dangerous  for  fishermen  ;  but  in  cold 
winters  the  Bay  will  be  solidly  frozen  out  to  the  islands,  and 
sometimes  far  beyond  them.  I  have  been  on  it,  ice-boating, 
when  there  was  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  a  sixty-mile  run,  with 
much  of  the  ice-field  as  smooth  as  glass,  over  which  our  boat 
would  fairly  fly  in  a  wild  race  with  the  wind. 

On  this  huge  winter  park  there  have  been  known  to  be,  at 
one  time,  as  many  as  two  thousand  five  hundred  people  engaged 
in  fishing.  It  might  be  deemed  a  risky  place  on  which  to  live, 
and  yet,  with  the  ice  thirty- six  inches  thick,  without  a  bubble, 
there  is  not  the  slightest  danger  until  the  warm  days  of  spring . 


WINTKR-FISHINCr  ON  SAGINAW  BAY. 


17 


The  fisherman's  house  is  unlike  anything  else  ever  made  for 
people  to  live  in,  and  you  would  say,  if  you  were  a  stranger  in 
an  ice  village,  that  the  huts  must  have  been  built  for  dogs,  for 
they  are  just  about  like  dog-kennels,  only  they  are  not  nearly 
so  well  made  as  most  such  kennels. 

The  shanty,  for  that  is  the  name  by  which  the  winter  house 
is  known,  is  from  five  to  six  feet  long,  by  about  two  and  a  half 
to  three  feet  wide,  three  and  a  half  feet  high  at  the  eaves,  with 
a  sharp  pitch  roof  ;  so  that  directly  under  the  ridge  a  man  of 
ordinary  height  can  stand  with  head  and  shoulders  a  little  bent. 


Fishing  Shanties. 

This  pigmy  structure  is  made  of  rough  boards,  and  covered 
all  over  with  tarred  paper.  The  floor  is  of  loose  boards,  laid  on 
the  ice.  The  furniture  consists  of  a  narrow  wooden  bench, 
extending  along  one  side,  which  serves  as  a  seat  by  day  and  a 
couch  by  night. 

Wedged  in  at  the  rear  end  is  a  little  sheet-iron  stove,  scarcely 
larger  than  a  big  frying-pan,  on  which  stands  a  small  spider 
and  a  coffee-pot.  At  the  front  end  is  a  door,  so  small  that  the 
fisherman  has  to  bend  on  entering  the  house. 

Just  inside  the  door  is  the  fishing-hole,  about  eighteen  inches 
square,  in  which  the  water  rises  almost  to  the  surface,  and  from 
which  every  speck  of  ice  has  been  carefully  removed. 

Above  this  hole  in  the  ice  is  a  small  hole  in  the  roof,  through 
which  the  spear-handle  is  passed  when  removing  it  from  the 
water,  but  which  is  kept  tightly  closed  when  the  fisherman  is  at 
work.  The  spear-head  has  six  barbed  prongs  of  fine  steel.  The 


i 


WINTKR-FISHING  ON  SAGINAW  BAY. 


handle  is  about  seven  feet  long,  and  is  secured  by  a  strong  cord 
to  the  roof.  On  one  side  of  the  handle  a  screw,  about  three 
feet  from  the  spear-head,  serves  as  a  rest,  and  holds  the  spear 
perpendicularly  in  the  hole. 

The  spear  is  thus  supported  by  the  screw,  which  is  caught 
on  the  edge  of  a  floor  board.  In  that  position  it  is  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  fisherman,  ready  for  instant  use. 

Having  seen  the  shanty,  let  us  now  follow  the  fisherman  into 
it  and  observe  him  at  his  vocation.    Getting  inside,  he  closes 


the  door  carefully 
ray  of  light  save 
through  the  deli- 
the  water,  as  soft 
lowest  moonlight, 
air.  There,  in 
after  hour, 
ice,  a  veritable 


thus  shutting  out  every 
what    is    sifted  up 
cately-tinted  green  of 
and  beautiful  as  mel- 
f  ailing  through  summer 
that  solitary  cell,  hour 
over  that  hole  in  the 
human  cat,  sits  the 
loneliest  of  lone  fish- 
ermen, waiting  for 
his  prey.  In  his  left 
hand  he  holds 
a  slender  cord, 
to   the  lower 
end  of  which 
is  attached  a 
decoy.  The 
decoy  is  a  her- 
ring, when  it 

can  be  obtained.  When  the  fisherman  cannot  get  a  herring,  he 
uses  an  imitation  one,  made  of  wood  ballasted  with  lead  and 
trimmed  with  tin  fins  and  tail  and  glass  eyes  ;  and  this  herring- 
decoy  is  a  beautiful  imitation,  as  seen  twenty  feet  below  in  the 
water,  with  every  scale  shining  as  white  as  a  new  silver  coin. 

The  fishing  is  done  in  water  the  depth  of  which  varies  with 
the  run  of  the  fish,  which  is  at  times  well  inshore  and  again 
off,  in  thirty,  fifty  and  seventy  feet  of  water.    The  decoy-line  is 


Fishing  through  the  Ice. 


WINTKR-FISHING  ON  SAGINAW  BAY. 


19 


knotted  at  a  point  that  will  bring  the  pursuing  fish  up  to 
within  eighteen  inches  of  the  spear  ;  so  that  when  that  knot 
reaches  the  fisherman's  hand  he  knows  just  about  the  distance 
he  has  to  drive  his  spear. 

When  the  fisherman  goes  to  work  he  drops  his  decoy  well 
toward  the  bottom,  or  as  far  as  he  can  see  it,  which  is  a  long 
distance  in  the  clear,  still  water.  As  soon  as  a  fish  appears, 
the  decoy  is  moved  carefully  upward,  the  darkness  of  the 
closed  shanty  preventing  the  fish  from  seeing  the  movements 
above  him,  while  he  can  be  seen  as  distinctly  as  if  he  were  on 
the  surface. 

When  the  fish  hesitates,  the  decoy  stops  ;  if  the  fish  starts 
forward,  the  decoy  is  drawn  farther  up.  If  he  retreats,  it  is 
lowered  toward  him.  Thus  the  trick  is  played  until  the  fish 
becomes  excited  and  rushes  in  upon  the  coveted  prey.  The 
line  is  then  rapidly  hauled  in  until  the  knot  reaches  the 
fisherman's  hand,  when  he  grasps  his  spear  and  drives  it  into 
the  back  of  his  game. 

The  fish  thus  speared  are  now  chiefly  pike,  although  along 
the  Straits  of  Mackinac  many  lake  trout  are  still  speared  in 
winter,  and  in  some  places  whitefish  are  caught  in  this  way, 
but  only  rarely,  as  they  are  not  a  game  fish  and  are  protected 
by  law. 

But  when  white  men  first  came  to  Saginaw  Bay  to  fish  they 
caught  large  quantities  of  splendid  trout,  the  largest  ones 
weighing  from  fifty  to  seventy  pounds. 

Charles  Ellis. 


I 


Dog -Sledges  in  Michigan. 

Although  dog-teams  are  no  longer  used  in  the  lower 
peninsula  of  Michigan,  they  have  not  ceased  to  be  employed 
near  the  Straits  of  Mackinac  and  in  the  upper  peninsula. 
Until  fifteen  years  ago,  when  the  railroads  were  pushed  through 
the  forests  as  far  north  as  Marquette,  dog-trains  were  necessary 
for  carrying  the  United  States  mails.  They  are  still  an 
important  motive  power  in  many  remote  places  where  canoes 
in  summer  and  dog-sledges  in  winter  are  the  only  methods  of  ; 
travel. 

In  my  early  life  in  Saginaw,  the  coming  of  the  dog-train 
from  Marquette  was  one  of  the  sensational  events  of  a  winter  in  v 
the  pine  woods.    These  trips  were  made  at  intervals  of  two 
weeks  from  the  closing  of  navigation  in  November  until  its 
opening  in  April  or  May. 

Saginaw  was  at  one  end  of  the  route,  and  I  have  often  seen 
the  w^eary  dogs  climb  the  river-bank  at  the  close  of  their 
tedious  journey  of  ten  days.  For  safety  they  had  to  travel  near 
the  shore,  and  often  upon  the  ice,  so  that  the  length  of  their 
route  was  estimated  at  six  hundred  miles,  though  the  distance 
between  Saginaw  and  Marquette  by  rail  is  only  about  three 
hundred  and  seventy-five  miles. 

The  sledges  in  use  at  that  time  were  shaped  like  toboggans, 
and  were  each  ten  feet  long  and  about  fourteen  inches  wide, 
with  the  front  curved.  These  sledges  were  the  property  of  the 
United  States  government,  and  their  chief  mission  was  to  carry 
the  mail,  which  was  packed  in  close  parcels,  covered  with  | 
waterproof  canvas,  and  tightly  strapped  to  the  sledge,  the  1 
whole  being  lashed  with  buckskin  thongs  to  a  leather  band 
fastened  to  the  edge  of  the  board. 

The  sledges  always  w^ent  in  pairs,  each  having  four  dogs  and 
two  couriers.    These  men  w^ere  half-breeds  and  wore  a  costume  f 
peculiarly  their  own.    Over  heavy  woollen  underclothing  they 


DOG-SI.KDGKvS  IN  MICHIGAN. 


21 


wore  a  coat  made  from  a  Mackinac  blanket,  usually  gray  with 
black  stripes  ;  a  hood  of  the  same  material  was  attached  to  the 
back  of  the  coat's  neck,  and  this  hood  was  drawn  over  the  fur 
cap  at  night  or  in  very  cold  weather.  A  bright  red  scarf 
girded  the  waist.  The  breeches  were  of  tanned  buckskin ;  the 
feet  were  well  protected  by  deerskin  moccasins  and  several 
pairs  of  heavy  stockings,  the  outer  pair  of  a  bright  red. 


Snow-shoes  were  always  included  in  the  outfit,  being  necessary 
where  snow  was  deep. 

The  dogs  travelled  tandem,  with  harness  of  collar,  back 
bands  and  traces.  Sleigh-bells  were  attached  to  the  collars, 
which  were  frequently  ornamented  with  bead  work  and  gay 
worsted  tassels.  The  best  dog  was  called  the  leader  ;  the  rear 
dog  was  called  the  steerer,  as  he  often  had  to  display  ingenuity 
in  keeping  the  sled  upright  in  difficult  places. 

The  regular  sledge  dogs  are  a  peculiar  breed,  known  as 
huskies,  supposed  to  be  a  corruption  of  the  word  Eskimo,  and 


22 


DOG-SI.EDGES  IN  MICHIGAN. 


are  derived  from  dogs  of  Eskimo  stock.  They  have  small 
heads,  long  noses,  short  but  pointed  ears  and  bushy  tails. 
Their  cry  is  a  yelp  rather  than  a  bark,  and  is  thought  to  re- 
semble the  noise  made  by  a  wolf. 

While  faithful  to  their  task,  they  are  quarrelsome,  and  are 
not  generally  treated  in  a  manner  to  develop  the  better  side  of 
their  nature.  They  are  not  guided  by  reins,  but  entirely  by  the 
voice  and  whip  ;  hence  they  are  shouted  at  and  shrieked  at  in 
French,  Indian  and  English. 

One  courier  runs  before  the  team,  the  other  follows  the 
sledge,  often  aiding  its  progress  by  means  of  a  long  stick  which 
extends  from  the  rear  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees. 

When  semi-monthly  trips  by  dog- team  supplied,  for  six 
months  each  year,  the  only  means  of  communication  between 
the  world  and  the  people  in  our  northern  wilds,  the  returning 
sledges  were  usually  loaded  with  accumulated  papers  and 
magazines.  Other  parcels  were  often  carried  as  freight  for  a 
stiff  price.  Occasionally  there  would  be  a  passenger,  if  that 
word  can  be  applied  to  a  man  who  paid  from  five  dollars  to 
fifteen  dollars  for  the  privilege  of  accompanying  the  sledges. 

The  route  was  through  a  trackless  forest  or  over  great  fields 
of  ice,  with  at  least  half  of  the  nights  to  be  passed  under  no 
shelter  but  the  pine-trees  and  with  a  snow-bank  for  a  bed. 
Provisions  for  both  men  and  dogs  were  always  carried  ;  the 
food  for  the  dogs  consisted  of  Indian  meal  and  tallow. 

Men  and  dogs  showed  great  powers  of  endurance,  making 
forty,  fifty  or  sixty  miles  a  day,  according  to  the  condition  of 
the  snow  and  ice,  and  doing  the  whole  journey  with  much 
regularity.  Nothing  short  of  a  most  extraordinary  storm 
retarded  the  arrival  and  departure  of  the  mail-trains.  In  a 
storm,  or  if  bewildered  in  regard  to  location,  the  couriers  trusted 
entirely  to  the  dogs,  who  never  failed  to  keep  the  right  course. 

Nowadays,  for  short  journeys  sleds  mounted  on  runners  are 
used,  but  they  would  not  be  serviceable  in  very  deep  or  soft 
snow.  While  dogs  are  not  so  necessary  to  the  settlers  as  twenty 
years  ago,  they  are  still  employed  in  the  northern  part  of  the 


DOG-SLEDGKS  IN  MICHIGAN. 


23 


State.  The  fishermen  all  along  shore  keep  dogs  to  carry  their 
catch  to  market,  and  to  bring  wood  and  other  supplies  to  their 
isolated  huts. 

There  are  many  fine  teams  kept  for  the  pleasure  of  their 
owners,  who  consider  them  more  desirable  than  horses  in  that 
cold  region,  as  they  can  lightly  pass  over  great  drifts  of  snow 
and  brave  the  wildest  storms.  Missionaries  frequently  employ 
dog-teams.  In  1896  one  of  them  travelled  nearly  four  hundred 
miles  with  his  dog-sleigh  through  the  wilds  of  northern  Michigan. 

Turk  and  Punch  were  with  difficulty  broken  to  the  work 
required  of  them.  In  telling  me  of  his  experiences  in  travelling, 
the  missionary  said : 

"  While  at  work  the  dogs  are  fed  but  once  a  day,  and  that 
at  night  when  their  work  is  done.  This  does  not  in  any  way 
betoken  cruelty  to  the  dogs,  for  they  do  better  work,  with  less 
fatigue,  than  if  they  were  fed  three  times  a  day.  My  dogs 
weigh  over  one  hundred  pounds  each,  and  were  in  a  much 
better  condition  at  the  end  of  the  season  than  when  they  started 
out. 

"Turk  took  kindly  to  his  duty  from  the  first,  springing  to 
his  proper  place  the  moment  the  sleigh-bells  were  heard  ;  but 
Punch  would  growl  and  snarl,  and  had  to  be  forced  each  time 
to  his  position  by  the  side  of  his  amiable  mate,  who  patiently 
awaited  the  word,  '  Go  !  ' 

"  Then,  with  little  impatient  yelps  and  sleigh-bells  jingling, 
they  bounded  over  the  huge  drifts  of  snow,  through  the 
pathless  woods,  often  making  eight  miles  an  hour." 

Mkrcia  Abbott  Keith. 


The  Ishpeming  Dog- Race 


The  upper  peninsula  of  Michigan,  that  great  stretch  of  big 
pines,  barren  plains  and  rugged  hills  seamed  with  mineral 
riches,  has  one  custom  which  is  probably  unique.  It  is  the 
annual  dog-race,  which  is  regularly  held  at  the  beginning  of 
the  year  in  several  of  the  larger  mining  towns. 

Its  origin  dates  back  to  the  times,  not  more  than  a  half- 
century  ago,  when  the  Canadian  French  and  the  Chippewas 
were  almost  the  sole  residents.  The  Indians  lived  as  they  did 
in  the  days  of  Hiawatha,  except  where  the  patient  missionaries 
had  founded  little  churches,  around  which  clearings  had  been 
made,  and  half-civilized  and  half-Christianized  Indians  were 
gaining  a  living,  partly  by  the  chase  and  the  trap,  and  partly 
from  the  products  of  their  little  farms. 

The  French  settlers  were  trappers  and  farmers,  and  their 
means  of  gaining  a  livelihood  and  their  manner  of  living  differed 
little  from  that  of  their  dusky  brethren. 

In  those  days  the  sailboat  and  rowboat  in  summer,  and  the 
dog-train  in  winter,  were  the  sole  means  of  transportation. 
The  government  mails  were  carried  at  stated  intervals  b}^  hardy 
half-breeds  or  equally  hardy  Canadians  in  their  boats  or  upon 
their  backs  in  summer,  while  during  the  long  winters,  beginning 
in  November  and  rarely  ending  before  May,  the  dogs  were 
compelled  to  take  the  burden.  Sometimes  strongly-built 
sledges  of  home  manufacture  were  used,  and  as  frequently  the 
Indian  toboggan  was  pressed  into  service. 

In  the  larger  mining  towns,  such  as  Ishpeming  and 
Calumet,  the  annual  dog-race  is  looked  forward  to  in  winter 
with  almost  as  much  pleasure  by  Young  America  as  is  the 
Fourth  of  July  in  the  summer-time*. 

In  Ishpeming  at  one  New  Year's  festival,  although  the  day 
was  bitterly  cold,  with  a  furious  wind  seeking  the  ears  and 
noses  of   the   people  on  the  streets,  five  thousand  persons 


THE  ISHPKMING  IXXr-KACK. 


25 


assembled  along  the  race-course,  which  was  on  Bank  Street. 
The  windows  of  the  buildings  facing  on  the  street  were  crowded 
with  ladies  and  children,  while  even  the  statue  of  the  Chippewa 
chief  on  the  square  upheld  several  enterprising  youngsters,  who 
there  obtained  a  good  view  of  the  start. 

With  great  difficulty  the  line  was  formed.    The  entries  in 
the  first  class  were  thirty-two  in  number  ;  and  the  line  of  dogs, 
sleds  and  boys  stretched 
across  the  street.  The 
judges  and  starters 


The   Big  Newfoundland  Leads. 


were  assisted  by  the  marshal,  in  his  fur  overcoat  and  fur 
cap,  while  policemen  stood  conveniently  along  the  course  to 
keep  back  the  overeager  spectators. 

The  sight  was  a  strange  one.  Boys  of  all  ages  from  eight  to 
sixteen  were  seated  upon  sleds  of  all  styles,  including  several  of 
home  manufacture.  Attached  to  these  sleds  by  harness  and 
tackle  of  every  variety,  from  the  made-to-order  leather  harness 


26 


THE  ISHPEMING  DOG-RACE. 


to  the  hastily-constructed  gear  of  rope  and  twine,  were  dogs  of 
all  sorts  and  conditions.  There  were  sorry  curs  of  low  degree, 
and  shaggy  Newfoundlands ;  there  were  huge  mastiffs  and 
slender  greyhounds ;  and  every  dog  and  every  driver  were 
bursting  with  anxiety  for  the  word  to  start. 

The  starter  said  "  Go!  "  and  the  dogs  went.  Four  or  five 
of  the  number  shot  swiftly  forward,  others  travelled  more  slowly. 
One  huge  St.  Bernard  made  a  desperate  leap  which  was  too 
much  for  the  worn  harness,  and  his  young  driver  was  left 
behind.  Another  boy  was  caught  off  guard,  and  left  rolling  in 
the  snow  while  his  steed  was  dragging  an  empty  sled  toward 
the  turning-point.  Two  other  dogs  started  at  cross-purposes, 
and  dogs,  boys  and  sleds  were  tangled  in  a  snarl  which  lasted 
till  the  fleeter  racers  had  reached  the  turning-point,  three  blocks 
distant. 

Of  the  number  entered,  but  five  or  six  displayed  genuine 
racing  qualities.  One  poor  youngster,  whose  dog  was  well  to 
the  front,  was  sorely  disappointed  when  his  Towser,  despite 
urgent  entreaties  and  the  liberal  application  of  a  whip,  turned 
at  the  last  corner  before  the  goal  and  ran  home  at  the  top  of  his 
speed.  That  dog  went  supperless  to  bed  that  night.  His 
youthful  master  faced  the  gibes  of  an  unfeeling  public,  composed 
of  his  young  neighbors  at  school,  the  next  morning. 

The  second  heat  was  almost  a  repetition  of  the  first,  though 
the  starters  were  ten  less  in  number.  A  big  Newfoundland 
came  in  ahead  both  times.  His  driver  had  no  whip,  and  needed 
none.  Even  boys  who  drive  dogs  vSometimes  learn  that  neither 
boy  nor  dog  can  have  his  best  endeavors  brought  out  by  the  use 
of  a  lash.  The  boy  who  learned  this  lesson  was  richer,  a 
half-hour  later,  in  the  possession  of  the  best  suit  of  clothes  that 
could  be  found  in  the  city,  for  that  was  the  first  prize. 

The  races  continued  for  nearly  two  hours,  the  entries  growing 
fewer  in  number  toward  the  last,  while  the  racing  was  better. 
The  boys  owning  refractory  dogs,  or  dogs  unnerved  by  the 
presence  of  five  thousand  spectators,  were  compelled,  reluctantly, 
to  withdraw  from  a  hopeless  contest.    From  the  side  streets 


THK  ISHPKMING  DOG-RACK. 


27 


there  frequently  arose  howls  from  luckless  dogs,  suffering 
chastisement  at  the  hands  of  their  aggrieved  drivers. 

At  last  the  races  were  over.  Skates,  sleds  and  dog  harnesses 
were  the  prizes.  The  last  prize  was  a  mammoth  soup-bone,  and 
it  was  expressly  stipulated  by  the  management  that  this  should 
be  for  the  exclusive  use  and  enjoyment  of  the  winning  dog,  and 
not  the  boy. 

The  competition  for  this  prize  was  not  so  brisk  as  when  sleds 
and  skates  were  at  stake  ;  but  there  were  four  entries,  and  a 
mangy  yellow  cur  that  had  never  been  in  sight  of  the  quarter- 
pole  before  that  day  trotted  off  with  the  soup-bone. 

His  ten-year-old  owner  and  driver  —  for  this  was  a  gentleman 
driver's  race,  only  owners  being  allowed  to  act  as  jockeys  — 
went  home  with  tears  in  his  eyes  and  the  firm  conviction  that 
his  beast  could  have  easily  won  for  him  that  suit  of  clothes,  but 
preferred,  out  of  the  meanness  of  his  canine  nature,  to  win  the 
soup-bone  for  his  own  carnal  enjoyment. 


Horace  J.  Stkvkns. 


Neither  Won. 


A  Wisconsin  Skate -Sail 


Of  skate-sailing  in  general  less  needs  to  be  said  now  than  a 
dozen  years  ago.  It  is  a  wonderfully  fine  and  fascinating 
sport,  based  on  the  longing  for  wings.  Who  can  stand  skate- 
shod  on  the  ice  with  a  fresh  breeze  blowing,  and  not  feel  that 
longing  ?  But  although  many  of  us  boys  had  long  felt  that 
desire,  it  was  only  with  the  introduction  of  the  form  of  sail  of 
which  I  write,  and  which  is  used  by  the  boys  in  Wisconsin, 
that  skate-sailing  came  into  great  popularity  among  us. 

Our  sail  is,  to  describe  it  in  the  simplest  terms,  simply  a 
triangular  piece  of  cloth,  stretched  on  a  T-shaped  frame,  carried 
to  windward  but  unattached  to  the  body.  One  of  its  chief 
merits  is  its  simplicity.  Yet  it  has  other  excellent  qualities  ; 
I  know  of  no  other  form  of  sail  with  which  so  large  a 
wind-surface  can  be  carried  with  such  complete  safety. 

It  is  a  safe  sail  because  it  is  unattached  to  the  body  ;  with 
a  little  experience  one  can  even  drop  it  upon  the  ice  if  it 
becomes  necessary.  In  using  a  sail  which  is  fastened  to  the 
body  there  is  always  the  danger,  especially  in  a  gusty  wind 
when  skate-sailing  is  .---"1 
at  its  best,  of  one's 

sail  becoming  unman-  -  ' 

ageable.   

The  frame  consists  ■— —^^ 

of  two  pieces.    The  ■"----....^ 

length   of    the    cross-  P'an  of  the  Sail. 

spar  should  be  about 
twice  the  distance  from  the  ground  to  the  armpit  of  the  boy 
as  he  stands  upon  skates.  Thus,  for  a  boy  of  sixteen  the 
cross-spar  should  be  perhaps  eight  feet  long,  and  the  main- 
spar  should  be  twice  the  length  of  the  cross-spar.  The  sail 
should  be  made  of  heavy  unbleached  muslin  or  sheeting,  cut 
of  such  a  size  that,  after  hems  have  been  made  all  around,  the 


A  WISCONSIN  SKATK-SAII,. 


29 


sail  shall  be  a  trifle  narrower  at  the  wide  end  than  the  length 
of  the  cross-spar,  and  about  a  foot  shorter  when  stretched  than 
the  main-spar. 

The  sail  is  carried  on  the  windward  side  of  the  body,  the 
main-spar  being  held  under  the  arm  about  three  or  four  feet 
from  the  forward  end.  The  lower  end  of  the  cross-spar  comes 
a  few  inches  above  the  ice  ;  the  rear  end  of  the  main-spar  drags. 


The  centre  of  resistance  is  about  one-third  of  the  distance 
from  the  forward  end.  The  whole  problem  of  steering  is 
involved  with  one's  relation  to  this  point. 

If  you  are  going  directly  before  the  wind,  you  should  be 
just  at  this  point.  If  you  are  tacking,  you  should  come  a  little 
forward.  If  you  would  come  into  the  wind,  steer  closer  with 
your  skates  and  come  to  the  front  of  the  sail,  when,  of  course, 
all  the  wind  is  spilled  behind.  To  come  about,  the  sail  is 
shifted  to  the  other  arm  by  being  passed  over  the  head  and 
turned  upside  down.  There  is  always  perfect  safety  so  long 
as  you  are  able  to  come  forward  of  the  centre  of  resistance. 

Now,  if  you  are  ready  let  us  take  a  long  flight  up  the  river. 


Sailing  Before  the  Wind. 


30 


A  WISCONSIN  SKATE-SAIL. 


There  is  a  strong  and  gusty  gale,  the  kind  of  wind  that  makes 
you  love  the  sport.  The  hard  surface  of  the  ice  stretches  out 
before  us  far  and  wide,  polished  and  smooth,  and  ringing,  when 
struck,  like  a  plate  of  finely  tempered  steel.    We  are  off ! 

How  the  wind  rushes  !  But  we  know  you  of  old,  Boreas  ! 
Many  a  time  have  we  wrestled  with  you  upon  this  glassy 
arena  !  We  speed  away  with  a  swoop,  the  sharp  steel  hissing, 
the  wind  stinging  our  faces,  the  spray  from  our  skates  whirling 
over  the  surface.  Braced  with  all  our  strength  we  lean  far 
over  upon  the  wind.  Yet  a  stronger  gust  has  seized  us,  and 
we  are  whirled  away  like  leaves  across  the  ice. 

But  here  we  are  at  the  end  of  our  course,  and  we  rush  up 
into  the  wind;  it  howls  and  roars  about  us,  and  the  sail  shakes 
and  quivers.    Again  we  are  off  on  our  wild  flight  back. 

There  is  joy  in  an  ocean-swim,  through  the  surf  and  out 
upon  the  great  waves.  There  is  joy  in  swimming  in  the  brown 
water  of  some  Northern  river  among  great,  fragrant  logs.  I 
remember  moments  when  tearing  over  the  ice  on  skates  after  a 
shinny-block  seemed  the  most  glorious  thing  in  life. 

Again,  there  are  the  memories  of  long  skatings  off  into  the 
sunset,  with  fine  feelings  of  freedom  and  power.  Or  our  skates 
have  led  us  on  into  quiet  bayous,  which  stretch  back  into  the 
depths  of  the  solemn  forest.  We  linger  to  watch  the  colors  in 
the  west  through  the  branches  and  among  the  great  trunks  of 
the  elms.  Then,  as  we  turn  homeward  in  the  phantom  light 
of  the  moon,  we  hear  the  reverberating  cr}^  of  the  great  owls, 
and  the  river  begins  solemnly  to  boom  with  the  settling  down 
of  night. 

Among  a  host  of  such  happy  memories  I  count  many  a 
glorious  sail  on  skates. 

A.  W.  Whitnky. 


A  Trip  to  Lake  Superior, 


The  first  of  July  found  me  sitting  on  the  forward  deck  of  a 
fine,  stanch  steamer  lying  at  her  dock  in  Detroit.  I  was 
surrounded  by  fishing-rods,  reels,  rubber  boots  and  the  usual 
equipments  of  fishermen.  With  me  was  a  young  companion, 
Arthur  Denison  ;  we  were  bound  for  a  trip  to  the  Lake  Superior 
country. 

Passing  through  the  turbid  waters  of  Lake  St.  Clair,  by 
Port  Huron  and  Sarnia,  we  soon  found  ourselves  tossing  upon 
the  angry  waters  of  Lake  Huron. 

The  next  morning  early  we  were  at  a  small  island  noted  for 
producing  more  raspberry  jam  than  any  other  manufactory  in 
the  United  States.  The  berries  were  picked  by  the  Indians 
and  manufactured  into  jam  by  the  thousands  of  gallons 
annually. 

Once  more  under  way,  and  we  soon  entered  the  St.  Mary's 
River,  and  in  a  few  hours  were  at  the  rapids,  waiting  at  the 
mouth  of  the  canal  for  our  turn  to  pass  through. 

As  we  were  obliged  to  wait  an  hour  or  two  at  this  point,  we 
took  a  stroll,  and  soon  discovered  several  Chippewa  lodges,  in 
one  of  which  lived  an  old  squaw,  said  to  be  one  hundred  and 
seventeen  years  old. 

These  Indians  earned  a  precarious  living  by  catching 
whitefish  in  the  rapids,  and  making  boxes  and  baskets  of 
birch-bark  and  a  fragrant  grass  that  grows  in  the  vicinity, 
which  they  sold  to  visitors. 

We  stood  on  the  shore  for  a  w^hile,  and  watched  the  Indians 
catch  the  fish.  Two  of  them  entered  a  birch-bark  canoe,  so 
light  and  frail  that  it  seemed  almost  as  fragile  as  an  egg-shell. 
They  paddled  up  until  they  reached  the  first  fall  in  the  rapids, 
then  one  of  them  took  his  place  in  the  prow  with  a  scoop-net, 
and  the  other  steadied  the  canoe  with  his  paddle. 

The  Indian  in  the  prow  stood  so  motionless  that  Arthur 


32 


A  TRIP  TO  JwVKK  SUPERIOR. 


thought  he  must  be  asleep  ;  but  suddenly  we  saw  the  *  net 
descend,  and  in  a  moment  it  rose  all  dripping  with  water,  and 
a  fine  large  whitefish  was  deposited,  gasping,  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canoe. 

Again  on  board  the  boat,  we  slowly  steamed  in  between  two 
high  walls  of  stone,  a  pair  of  immense  gates  were  closed 
behind  us,  and  then  the  great  boat  began  to  rise  slowly,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  we  were  in  another  lock;  the  great  gates  again 


steamer  in  the  Lock. 


closed  behind  us,  and  then  we  rose  to  a  level  with  the  lake 
before  us.  We  thus  passed  around  the  rapids  in  the  great 
St.  Mary's  Falls  Ship  Canal,  and  were  fairly  launched  on  the 
bosom  of  the  great  lake,  whose  green  waters  extended  for 
nearly  five  hundred  miles  before  us. 

Just  as  the  sun  rose  the  following  morning,  the  captain 
called  us  to  come  on  deck,  and  a  remarkable  sight  greeted  our 
eyes.  Every  one  asked,  "Why,  where  are  we?"  and  the 
captain  finally  told  us,  "In  Le  Portail."  The  great  steamer, 
with  its  tall  masts  and  smoke-stacks,  was  in  an  immense 
cavern,  more  than  a  hundred  feet  high. 

"IvOok,"  cried  Arthur,  "how  can  the  boat  stay  here? 
The  water  isn't  more  than  two  feet  deep." 

But  the  captain  told  us  that  it  was  more  than  twenty-five 


A  TRIP  TO  IvAKE  SUI'KRIOR. 


33 


feet  deep.  Yet  so  clear  and  transparent  was  it  that  we  could 
see  the  delicate  tints  and  colors  of  every  pebble  on  the  bottom 
as  plainly  as  though  they  lay  in  our  hand. 

In  a  short  time  the  great  steamer  backed  out  of  the  cave, 
and  in  a  few  hours  more  we  found  ourselves  along  the  busy 
docks  at  Marquette,  over  which  millions  of  tons  of  iron  ore  are 
annually  shipped  to  the  great  manufacturing  centres  of  the 
world. 

The  captain  sent  for  Steve,  a  well-known  half-breed,  who 
^  was  soon  along  side  the  dock  with  his  neat  and  clean  "  Lady 
of  the  Lake."  Our  rods,  troUing-lines  and  our  luncheons, 
were  soon  in  the  boat.  Steve  took  the  oars,  and  away  we 
leaped  over  the  emerald-green  waters. 

Before  we  had  been  out  five  minutes,  Arthur  asked  : 

"  When  shall  we  begin  to  fish  ?  " 

"Good  time  now,"  replied  Steve,  who  gave  a  nod  of 
approval  of  our  "  spoons,"  and  overboard  they  went. 

We  watched  the  bright-silvered,  gaily  painted  trolls,  as 
they  glistened  far  behind  us  in  the  clear  water,  and  pretty  soon 
Steve  said,  "  That's  enough,"  and  we  stopped  paying  out  our 
lines,  and  anxiously  waited  for  a  bite. 

Arthur  soon  exclaimed,  "I've  got  a  fish!  I've  got  one! 
Let  me  pull  him  in  !    Don't  touch  the  line  !  " 

' '  Steady  !  Pull  steady  !  ' '  said  Steve  ;  and  in  a  few  minutes 
a  six-pound  Mackinac  trout  lay  flapping  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat. 

The  fish  came  so  fast  that  our  hands  grew  both  tired  and 
sore,  and  we  were  glad  to  hear  the  guide  suggest  pulling 
inshore  towards  a  small  rocky  island  near  the  mouth  of  Cart 
River,  that  we  might  try  our  luck  at  speckled  trout. 

Our  rods  were  soon  jointed,  our  reels  attached,  lines 
fastened,  and  in  a  very  few  minutes  after  our  keel  struck  the 
pebbly  beach  we  were  on  the  rocks.  I  threw  a  small  black 
fly  with  gaudy  wings,  and  it  had  scarcely  struck  the  water 
before  a  noble  fellow  seized  it. 

The  sport  went  on,  until  we  heard  the  hoarse  whistle  of  the 


34 


A  TRIP  TO  I.AKP:  SUPKRIOR. 


"  Ironsides  "  ;  and  though  Arthur  declared,  "  It's  too  bad  !  " 
we  took  the  boat,  and  Steve  soon  landed  us  and  our  precious 
cargo  at  the  dock. 

Morning  found  us  in  Portage  Lake,  and  we  visited  two  of 
the  largest  towns  in  the  Lake  Superior  country,  near  the 
richest   copper-mines   in   the  world.     There  all  is  life  and 


activity,  and  we  saw  the  locomotive  come  puffing  out  of  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  with  its  car-loads  of  ore. 

On  our  way  back  we  visited  the  Minnesota  and  National 
mines,  where  we  descended  the  shafts  to  immense  depths,  and 
saw  the  grimy  miners,  with  their  little  safety-lamps  fastened  in 
their  hats,  as  they  delved  and  toiled  for  the  precious  ore,  some 
of  which  contains  large  quantities  of  virgin  silver. 

At  Ontonagon  we  met  the  man  who  carried  the  mail  during 
the  winter  season,  and  furnished  the  only  means  of  communi- 
cation that  this  thriving  settlemen-t  had  with  the  outside  world 
during  the  long,  cold  winter.  He  was  a  half-breed,  and  with 
his  train  of  noble  dogs  and  sledge,  made  an  easy  sixty  miles 
per  day  over  the  frozen  crust  with  his  mail-bags. 


steamer  at  Detroit. 


Samuki.  W.  Cozzkns. 


Hop-Picking  in  Central  New  York. 


In  many  a  quaint  old  farmhouse,  from  the  middle  of  August 
until  the  first  of  September,  numerous  preparations  are  made 
for  the  gathering  of  the  hop  crop.  To  the  hop-grower  it  means 
a  season  of  anxiety  and  hard  work  ;  to  the  pickers  a  sort  of 
holiday,  combined  with  the  satisfactory  prospect  of  making  a 
little  money. 

The  good  wife  certainly  has  her  hands  full  at  this  time. 
Kvery  available  space  is  utilized  for  sleeping  accomodations  ; 
beds  are  spread  in  the  parlor,  hall  and  attic,  and  the  male 
portion  of  the  help  often  sleep  in  the  hop-house. 

The  fattest  lambs,  the  choicest  chickens,  are  all  sacrificed 
to  appease  the  hungry  pickers.  There  seems  to  be  a  rivalry 
among  the  farmers  as  to  who  will  set  the  best  table.  Perhaps 
it  is  for  their  interest  to  do  this,  as  oftentimes  there  is  a  scarcity 
of  pickers,  and  the  farmer  who  has  the  reputation  for  good 
living  seldom  has  trouble  in  securing  help. 

When  they  are  in  the  condition  for  picking,  the  hops  must 
be  gathered  at  once,  as  a  delay  of  a  few  days  would  result  in  a 
serious  loss  to  the  farmer. 

In  certain  localities  near  villages  the  pickers  often  board 
themselves,  bringing  their  dinners,  and  returning  to  their 
homes  at  night ;  but  the  majority  of  the  growers  board  their 
hands.  Almost  every  one  in  this  section  goes  hop-picking, 
the  rich  and  poor,  the  young  and  old,  oftentimes  whole 
families,  in  which  latter  case  the  earnings  are  considerable. 

It  is  a  pleasant  sight  to  watch  the  pickers  going  to  their 
daily  task.  There  are  many  well-dressed  people,  matrons, 
pretty  girls  and  young  children,  all  looking  fresh  and  cheerful, 
with  their  lunch-baskets  on  their  arms,  all  chatting  and 
laughing,  and  appearing  totally  unconcerned  as  to  the  task 
before  them. 

Yonder  comes  a  lumber  wagon  loaded  with  a  farmer's  whole 


36 


HOP-PICKING  IN  CENTRAL  NEW  YORK. 


family.  Among  them  is  one  woman,  perhaps  seventy  years 
old,  bringing  her  easy  chair  to  sit  in  while  picking.  The 
mother  has  the  baby  on  her  arms,  who  will  soon  be  sleeping 
sweetl}^  beneath  the  graceful  clusters  of  hops. 

The  hops  as  they  are  picked  are  put  into  boxes.  The 
main  box  is  divided  into  four  separate  compartments  or  boxes, 


In  the  Hop-Field. 

each  holding  eight  bushels.  There  are  four  pickers  to  a  main 
box,  each  picker  having  his  own  box  holding  eight  bushels. 
The  number  of  boxes  picked  by  a  person  in  a  day  depends 
upon  the  abundance  of  the  hops,  their  size,  and  the  ability  of 
the  picker.  The  general  average  is,  perhaps,  from  two  to  four 
boxes  per  day. 

The  wages  paid  range  from  thirty-five  cents  to  fifty  cents 


HOP-PICKING  IN  CENTRAL  NEW  YORK. 


37 


per  day  when  the  picker  is  boarded,  or  from  fifty  cents  to 
seventy-five  cents  when  he  boards  himself. 

Every  main  box  has  a  box-tender  whose  business  it  is  to 
pull  the  poles,  .strip  the  vines  from  them,  and  keep  the  pickers 
supplied  with  hops.  It  is  quite  a  responsible  position,  as  it  is 
also  his  duty  to  see  that  the  poles  are  picked  clean,  the  hops  in 
the  boxes  kept  free  from  leaves  and  stems,  and  no  hops  wasted 
on  the  ground. 

As  soon  as  a  box  is  filled,  it  is  sacked  by  the  box-tender, 
the  picker  holding  the  sack  while  the  box-tender  puts  in  the 
hops,  carefully  picking  out  every  large  leaf  and  stem,  and 
frequently  admonishing  the  pickers  to  pick  their  hops  a  little 
cleaner.  A  setting  comprises  six  rows  of  poles  from  each  end 
of  the  box,  and  three  from  each  side.  When  these  are  all 
picked,  the  box  is  moved  forward  to  another  setting. 

A  busy,  merry  throng  they  are,  with  their  nimble  fingers 
working  swiftly  over  the  vines. 

Noon  soon  comes,  the  gala  event  of  the  day,  but  none  too 
soon,  for  the  bracing  air,  the  pleasant  exercise  and  the  good 
spirits  of  the  company  are  all  conducive  to  an  appetite  that  is 
a  stranger  to  those  working  in  stores  and  factories  in  large 
towns  and  cities.  A  shady  spot  is  selected  beneath  some  grand 
old  tree,  or  in  some  grove  beside  a  spring  of  sparkling  water, 
and  here  a  table  is  spread  on  the  green  grass. 

Such  a  variet}^  of  good  things  !  Cold  turkey,  chicken, 
geese,  meats  of  all  kinds,  sandwiches,  and  innumerable  pies, 
cakes  and  puddings  ;  jugs  of  cold  coffee,  tea,  milk  and  lemonade, 
but  never  any  malt  or  spirituous  liquors.  In  an  experience  of 
twenty-five  years,  I  never  saw  a  drunken  person  in  a  hop-field. 

The  women  gossip  as  they  eat,  and  in  the  pure  air,  with 
the  cool  breezes  from  the  hills  fanning  their  sunburnt  faces, 
their  loquacity  seems  to  be  so  increased  that  it  would  leave 
an}^  traditional  tea-party  far  behind  in  the  race  of  tongues. 

John  H.  Adams. 


Charcoal  -  Burners. 


Charcoal,  as  made  in  the  forests  of  the  United  States,  is 
used  principally  for  fuel  in  iron  -  smelting  furnaces.  In 
Pennsylvania,  for  instance,  many  of  the  smelting  companies  own 
timbered  land  and  employ  charcoal-burners,  or  coalers,  as  they 
call  themselves,  to  convert  the  wood  into  charcoal. 

The  men  who  call  themselves  coalers  are  not  all  directly 
employed  in  charring  the  wood  ;  indeed,  the  majority  of  them 
are  simply  choppers,  who  fell  the  trees  and  cut  them  into 
cord- wood  lengths.  Thirty  men  are  required  through  the  winter 
to  cut  the  wood  that  ten  of  the  gang  can  afterward  char,  and 
these  ten  are  truly  coalers.  They  are  generally  sons  of  charcoal- 
burners,  while  the  choppers  are  commonly  farmers'  sons  from 
the  neighboring  region. 

When  the  superintendent  of  a  furnace  has  decided  how  many 
cords  of  wood  shall  be  cut  from  a  certain  tract,  the  location  of  a 
camp  is  settled  and  choppers  and  coalers  gather  there.  Their 
first  work  is  building  cabins  for  the  winter,  as  chopping  is 
usually  done  between  November  and  April.  In  the  spring  the 
coalers  are  left  to  deal  with  the  wood,  which  has  been  piled  in 
ranks  near  where  it  is  to  be  charred. 

The  cabins  are  built  of  logs  with  mud  daubed  into  the 
chinks.  Smaller  logs  form  the  roofs,  which  are  usually  shingled 
with  several  layers  of  bark,  though  I  have  seen  sods  used 
instead.  Against  the  cabin  a  chimney  is  built  of  stones  and 
mud,  with  a  fireplace  opening  into  the  one  room  of  the  dwelling, 
which  is  seldom  larger  than  twelve  feet  by  fourteen.  Two 
experienced  men  can  build  such  a  house  in  three  days. 

The  chimney  is  the  coaler's  kitchen ;  the  bunk  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  cabin  is  his  bedroom,  and  his  sitting-room 
is  the  space  between. 

Having  housed  themselves,  all  hands  begin  to  fell  trees, 
chop  them  into  lengths  and  pile  these,  each  man  keeping  his 
wood  in  a  separate  rank  or  pile.    About  once  a  week  the  wood 


CHARCOAL-BURNKRS. 


39 


boss  visits  the  camp,  measures  the  piles  and  credits  each  man 
with  the  amount  he  has  made.  A  strong  chopper  can  put  up 
from  three  to  four  cords  a  day,  and  his  wages  vary  in  different 
years  between  thirty  and  forty  cents  a  cord. 

In  Pennsylvania  the  choppers  leave  camp  about  the  middle 
of  April,  when  the  coalers  begin  to  build  the  pits,  which  are  not 
holes  in  the  earth,  but  simply  large  mounds  that  much  resemble 
enormous  ant-hills. 

In  constructing  a  pit  the  first  thing  is  the  building  of  the 
chimney.  This  is  formed  by  laying  sticks  of  wood  in  a  square 
with  the  ends  crossed,  and  so  placing  tier  after  tier  till  the 
chimney  is  about  twelve  feet  high. 

All  around  this  chimney  the  wood  is  leaned  slanting,  as  the 
coalers  say,  and  placed  in  layer  after  layer  till  the  whole  is 


in  or  fire  showing  at  any  point  except  such  as  the  coalers  may 
choose.    When  covered  with  earth  the  pit  is  ready  to  be  fired. 

This  is  done  by  dropping  coals  from  the  top  of  the  chimney 
upon  a  little  tinder  laid  at  the  bottom.  As  soon  as  the  fire  has 
taken  hold  the  top  of  the  chimney  is  covered  with  earth,  and  no 
draught  of  air  allowed  except  such  as  flows  slowly  through  the 
covering  of  leaves  and  earth. 

The  coaler  must  be  ever  watchful  lest  the  wood,  which  he 
wishes  to  keep  smoldering,  should  burn  instead,  and  so  yield  not 
charcoal  but  ashes.  If  he  sees  too  much  smoke  coming  from 
any  part  of  the  pit  he  climbs  up  on  a  rude  ladder  and  uses  a 
kind  of  wooden  hoe  to  increase  the  thickness  and  solidity  of  the 
earth-covering  there.    Sometimes  a  crater  appears  at  some  point 


Plan  of  a  Pit 


about  twenty-five  feet  in 
diameter  at  the  base. 
Usually  about  thirty  cords 
of  wood  are  placed  in  one 
pit.  Then  the  wood  is 
covered  with  a  layer  of 
dead  leaves  and  afterward 
with  earth,  the  purpose 
being  to  prevent  air  getting 


40 


CHARCOAL-BURNKRS. 


where  the  earth  has  fallen  in  or  crumbled  away,  then  the  coaler 
must  stop  the  hole  with  more  earth.  His  business  is  simply  to 
keep  the  slow  fire  well  banked  up. 

■  If  the  weather  be  rainy  he  need  not  be  so  constantly  on  the 
alert  as  when  it  is  dry  ;  but  if  the  wind  be  high  he  must  be  on 
guard  day  and  night.  A  little  neglect  may  let  the  banked  fire 
gain  such  headway  that  it  will  largely  consume  the  wood  and 
destroy  the  prospect  of  a  good  yield  of  charcoal. 

Thirteen  days  are  commonly  required  to  coal  such  a  pit  as 
I  have  described.  But  if  the  wood  be  light  and  the  weather 
windy  a  pit  may  be  opened  at  the  end  of  eight  days.  If  a  man 
is  industrious  he  may  coal  two  such  pits  a  month  and  earn  from 
forty  to  fifty  dollars,  according  to  the  quantity  of  charcoal,  for 
which  he  is  paid  by  the  bushel. 

Unfortunately  the  tick  system  prevails  in  Pennsylvania  to 
some  extent ;  hence  the  coaler  is  not  always  paid  in  money,  but 
sometimes  in  tickets  or  checks  for  food  or  goods  kept  at  the 
store  of  the  furnace  company.  This  pernicious  system  is 
disliked  by  the  coalers,  though  they  are  usually  contented  men, 
who  would  not  exchange  their  work  for  any  other. 

It  is  usually  late  in  October  when  the  wagons  of  the  furnace 
company  make  their  latest  rounds  of  the  camps  and  haul  away 
any  charcoal  remaining  at  the  pits.  Then  the  coalers  gather  up 
their  few  utensils  and  move  on  five  or  six  miles,  to  begin  again 
the  round  of  building,  chopping  and  coaling. 

How  long  charcoal  will  continue  to  be  used  for  smelting 
purposes  no  one  can  foresee.  But  coke  has  taken  its  place  in 
many  quarters.  Nevertheless  many  experts  declare  that  no 
fuel  is  so  good  as  charcoal  for  smelting  pigs  that  are  to  yield 
such  a  high  grade  of  malleable  iron  as  is  used  for  horseshoes, 
horseshoe  nails  and  so  on.  But  as  steel  is  rapidly  supplanting 
iron  it  is  probable  that  the  picturesque  charcoal-burner  will 
disappear  from  our  forests  within  a  few  years. 


E.  B.  F1NDI.AY. 


Natural  Gas. 


The  earliest  Jesuit  explorers  of  the  Ohio  Valley  discovered 
and  reported  columns  of  fire  issuing  from  the  ground.  In  1775 
George  Washington  sought  to  have  set  apart  and  reserved  to 
the  public  forever  a  square  mile  of  land  in  the  Kanawha  Valley, 
in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  burning  gas  spring  that  he  regarded 
as  one  of  the  greatest  of  our  national  wonders. 

The  first  use  of  natural  gas  for  domestic  purposes  in  this 
country  was  made  in  182 1  in  the  village  of  Fredonia,  Chautauqua 
County,  N.  Y.,  where  enough  of  it  was  collected  and  piped  to 
supply  thirty  burners.  The  village  inn  was  illuminated  by  this 
gas  when  Lafayette  passed  through  Fredonia  in  1824.  At  the 
same  time  a  small  lighthouse  on  Lake  Erie  warned  vessels 
from  the  coast  with  a  flame  of  the  same  product. 

Natural  gas  is  found  in  connection  with  petroleum  and  salt 
water  deposits,  and  it  was  the  gas  that  rushed  from  a  salt-well, 
bored  in  Western  Virginia  in  1841,  that  was  first  used  as  fuel 
in  a  furnace.  Here  it  supplied  the  heat  necessary  for  boiling 
and  evaporating  the  salt  water,  and  enabled  the  owners  of  the 
well  to  make  salt  a  little  cheaper  than  other  well-owners. 

From  the  earliest  development  of  the  Pennsylvania  oil-fields 
a  portion  of  the  gas  that  generally  accompanies  the  flow  of  oil 
from  a  well  has  been  used  to  heat  the  boilers  of  the  pumping 
engines,  and  to  warm  and  light  the  dwellings  in  their  vicinity. 

For  many  years,  however,  it  was  oil  and  not  gas  which  the 
well-drillers  were  seeking,  and  they  allowed  millions  of  cubic 
feet  of  the  gas  to  escape,  or  burn  to  waste  daily,  with  little 
thought  of  its  value.  If  it  was  lighted  at  the  end  of  tall  pipes 
for  the  illumination  of  village  streets  or  dark  forest  roads,  no 
one  thought  of  turning  it  off  at  sunrise.  By  day  as  well  as  at 
night  its  lurid,  torch-like  flames  burned  on  hilltops,  in  valley 
and  forest  throughout  the  oil  regions. 

In  1874  it  was  discovered  that  this  fuel  could  be  used  more 


42 


NATURAI,  GAS. 


effectively  and  cheaply  than  coal,  in  iron-works,  glass-works 
and  other  manufacturing  establishments.  It  was  not  until  1883, 
however,  that  the  enormous  volumes  of  gas  supplied  by  the 
Murraysville  field  were  directed  through  twenty  miles  of  iron 
pipe  to  Pittsburg,  and  offered  as  fuel  for  the  mills,  factories, 
stores  and  dwellings  of  that  city. 

With  its  use  for  this  purpose,  the  manufacturing  business  of 
that  large  city  was  revolutionized,  its  domestic  comfort  was 

greatly  increased,  and  its  whole 
aspect  was  changed.  Not  only 
does  gas  furnish  a  more  regular 
and  intense  heat  than  coal, 
but  furnishes  it  at  a  reduced 
cost,  and  does  away  with  the 
labor  of  handling  coal,  building 
fires,  keeping  them  supplied 
with  fuel,  and  disposing  of  the 
accumulated  ashes  and  cinders. 

It  was  not  found  necessarj' 
to  make  any  material  change  in 
the  construction  of  furnaces, 
open  grates  or  stoves.  Those 
built  for  coal  are  still  used  for 
gas.  The  onl}^  difference  is 
that,  instead  of  kindlings,  coal, 
ashes,  cinders,  soot  and  smoke, 
there  is  a  small  pipe  that  issues 
from  the  floor  and  enters  the 
grate.  A  stop-cock  is  turned, 
the  gas  is  ignited,  and  any 
degree  of  heat  required  can  be  obtained  at  once  and  regulated 
at  will.  When  no  longer  needed  the  flame  is  instantly  extin- 
guished, and  all  care  of  the  fire  is  at  an  end.  With  a  good 
draught  there  is  perfect  combustion  and  no  odor. 

Natural  gas  is  found  in  both  sandstone  and  limestone 
formations,  at  depths  ranging  from  a  few  hundred  to  two 


Gas  Light. 


NATURAL  GAS. 


43 


thousand  feet,  and  is  reached  by  wells  bored  in  the  same  way  as 
for  oil.  In  fact,  it  often  happens  that  a  well  sunk  for  oil  yields 
gas  instead.  This  was  formerly  regarded  as  a  misfortune,  but 
the  gas  has  become  as  valuable  as  the  oil,  and  drilling  for  gas 
is  a  well-established  business. 

Striking  gas  is  a  somewhat  thrilling  affair.  As  the  ponderous 
drill  crashes  through  the  thin  remaining  crust  of  slate,  and 
liberates  the  giant  imprisoned  for  ages  beneath,  the  column  of 
gas  leaps  up  the  five-inch  pipe  with  such  force  as  violently  to 
project  the  heavy  boring  tools,  weighing  a  ton  or  more,  through 
the  derrick  frame.  The  gas,  with  a  screaming  roar,  springs  a 
hundred  feet  into  the  air,  a  column  of  bluish  vapor.  Sometimes 
it  tears  the  casing  of  cast-iron  pipe  from  the  well,  and  hurls 
after  it  volleys  of  earth  and  rock,  mingled  with  jets  of  oil  and 
salt  water. 

Of  course  not  all  gas-wells  begin  business  in  this  boisterous 
manner.  Most  of  them  are  of  comparatively  gentle  flow  and 
easy  to  manage,  though  such  scenes  as  the  one  described  are 
not  uncommon  in  new  fields. 

The  gas  giant  is  fond  of  fire,  and  the  moment  he  is  loosed 
from  his  underground  prison  he  begins  eagerly  to  search  for  it. 
If  it  is  found  under  the  boiler  of  the  pumping  engine,  in  the  bowl 
of  a  workman's  pipe,  or  in  sparks  struck  from  flinty  rocks,  the 
pillar  of  vapor  instantly  becomes  a  column  of  flame,  throwing 
out  an  intense  heat,  devouring  and  withering  everything  in  its 
vicinity,  and  at  night  lighting  miles  of  the  surrounding  country 
with  its  angry  glow. 

It  may  burn  for  weeks,  months,  or  even  for  years,  before  its 
terrible  strength  is  so  exhausted  that  the  torrent  of  flame  can  be 
extinguished  and  its  energies  subdued  to  the  service  of  man. 

During  the  past  forty  years  the  quantity  of  gas  thus  wasted 
has  been  enormous  beyond  belief,  or  power  to  compute. 
But  this  waste  is  now  almost  wholly  checked.  Devices  have 
been  perfected  and  adopted  for  seizing  and  controlling  the  vapor 
upon  its  first  appearance  in  the  w^ell,  and  before  it  has  drawn  a 
single  breath  of  air,  without  which  its  ignition  is  impossible. 


44 


NATURAL  GAS. 


Even  the  vast  columns  of  flame  that  for  so  long  baffled  the 
efforts  of  the  gas  men  can  now  be  surely  and  safely  extinguished, 
so  that  the  gushers  and  roarers  of  new  gas  fields,  with  their 
pressure  of  four  or  five  hundred  pounds  to  the  square  inch,  are 
conducted  through  a  network  of  pipe  lines  to  the  scenes  of  their 
future  usefulness  without  loss  of  time  or  money, 


Drilling  a  Gas-Well. 


A  singular  spectacle  was  afforded  by  a  well  bored  at 
Gambier,  Ohio.  The  well,  not  having  been  tubed,  repeatedly 
filled  with  water,  which  was  ejected  by  the  rush  of  gas  at 
regular  intervals  of  one  minute.  An  intermittent  fountain  of 
mingled  gas  and  water  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high  was 
thus  formed.  In  winter  the  derrick  above  the  well  became  so 
completely  incased  in  ice  as  to  form  a  transparent  chimney. 
By  cutting  a  hole  at  the  base  of  this  ice  chimney,  and  igniting 
the  gas  as  it  rushed  upward,  an  effect  was  produced  that  at 
night  was  weird  and  beautiful  beyond  description. 

Another  fascinating  picture  is  made  by  the  miniature  aurora 


NATURAL  GAS. 


45 


borealis  that  appears  in  the  vicinity  of  blazing  gas-wells  on  clear, 
cold  winter  nights,  when  the  air  is  charged  with  minute  ice 
crystals.  The  darkness  glows  and  sparkles  with  broad  bands, 
streamers  and  brilliant  points  of  light  reflected  from  the 
innumerable  tiny  frost  diamonds  that  dart  to  and  fro,  waver, 
disappear,  and  flash  into  brightness  again  in  the  mOvSt 
bewildering  manner. 

The  reservoirs  of  natural  gas  were  once  thought  to  be 
inexhaustible.  It  was  even  maintained  that  the  gas  is  produced 
in  the  underground  laboratories  faster  than  it  can  be  used. 
This  view  is  not  now  held.  Wells  have  been  exhausted  and 
have  ceased  to  flow,  and  often  the  supply  from  a  new  one  is 
diminished  as  soon  as  another  is  sunk  in  its  vicinity.  However, 
no  communit}^  which  has  once  enjoyed  the  blessings  of  a  gas 
fuel  will  willingly  return  to  the  use  of  coal. 

Gas  has  become  almost  a  necessity,  and  human  ingenuity 
is  now  at  work  in  a  thousand  directions  to  invent  methods  for 
producing  it  cheaply  and  abundantly  from  coal  or  other  materials 
in  order  that,  when  the  natural  supply  is  exhausted,  an  equally 
good  artificial  supply  may  take  its  place.  Communities  which 
cannot  obtain  natural  gas  are  already  demanding  an  artificial 
product  that  shall  give  them  equal  advantages  with  localities 
supplied  by  nature  with  this  perfect  fuel. 

Gas  stored  in  portable  tanks  is  being  used  as  fuel  beneath 
the  boilers  of  locomotives  and  steamboat  engines,  and 
indications  point  to  its  substitution  for  coal  in  the  near  future 
on  a  still  wider  scale  than  at  present. 

Kirk  Munroe. 


An  Oil -Country  Crater 


"  It  is  far  grander  than  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius  that  I  once 
travelled  many  miles  to  see  !  "  exclaimed  a  lady,  as  she  pointed 
in  awe  and  admiration  at  the  gigantic  cornucopia  of  coal-black 
smoke  which  towered  gracefully  thousands  of  feet  into  the 
heavens  from  the  top  of  a  burning  oil-tank. 

Surely  few  spectacles  can  compare  in  grandeur  with  that 
afforded  by  thirty-five  thousand  barrels  of  crude  petroleum 
aflame  in  a  mammoth  amphitheater  of  iron ;  but  such  a 
spectacle  occurs  as  often  as  twice  a  year  in  the  oil  country,  in 
places  where  large  quantities  of  crude  petroleum  are  stored, 
and  in  the  case  of  nearly  every  such  conflagration  a  flash  of 
lightning  causes  the  outburst. 

Storage  tanks  are  constructed  of  huge  sheets  of  iron  riveted 
together  tier  upon  tier.  They  resemble  gigantic  seal-brown 
cheese-boxes.  A  roof  of  wood  covered  with  thin  sheetE  of 
iron,  having  a  slight  upward  slant  toward  the  centre,  keeps 
out  the  storms. 

If  lightning  strikes  the  tank,  the  gases  which  emanate  from 
the  oil  are  ignited,  and  explode  with  a  loud  report.  The  roof 
is  blown  off,  and  in  an  instant  the  great  caldron  of  petroleum 
has  an  aureola  of  marvellous  beauty. 

If  the  air  is  clear  and  still,  the  pillar  of  smoke  arises  straight 
toward  the  heavens  like  a  black  waterspout,  slowly  expanding 
as  its  lofty  head  touches  the  clouds. 

The  burning  tank  is  often  surrounded  by  many  other  tanks, 
and  unless  prompt  and  vigorous  action  is  taken  the  tank  will 
overflow  in  a  short  time  ;  a  column  of  suddenly  liberated  gases 
will  flash  thousands  of  feet  into  the  heavens  for  an  instant, 
converting  the  whole  neighborhood  into  a  fiery  furnace,  and 
the  burning  oil  will  pour  over  the  edges  of  the  tank  and  sweep 
the  ground  in  all  directions,  destroying  everything  in  its 
pathway,  and  firing  the  adjacent  tanks. 


AN  OIIv-COUNTRY  CRATER. 


47 


To  guard  against  such  a  disastrous  overflow,  the  employes 
of  the  owners  of  the  tank  work  very  hard  indeed.  If  the  tank 
is  not  already  surrounded  by  a  deep  trench  and  a  high  bank  of 
earth,  a  large  force  of  men,  furnished  with  picks  and  shovels. 


Puncturing  the  Tank. 


hurriedly  dig  the  protecting  ditch,  piling  the  earth  upon  the 
side  more  remote  from  the  tank. 

Meanwhile,  the  pumps  at  the  nearest  pumping-station  are 
hard  at  work  drawing  the  oil  from  the  bottom  of  the  burning 
tank  through  a  pipe,  and  despatching  it  elsewhere  for  storage. 

If  apparatus  for  fighting  fire  is  at  hand,  cooling  streams  of 


48 


AN  OIIv-COUNTRY  CRATER. 


water  are  directed  against  the  red-hot  sides  of  the  tank  b}^ 
firemen  who  lie  behind  hastily  erected  shields  of  wood,  through 
which  holes  are  cut  for  the  passage  of  the  hose-pipe.  Mean- 
while, horses  and  men  have  been  despatched  for  the  nearest 
cannon.  The  gunners  hastily  load  the  brass  field-piece, 
ramming  home  a  solid  shot  or  a  great  slug  of  lead.  The 
muzzle  of  the  piece  is  depressed  so  that  a  glance  along 
the  barrel  strikes  the  bottom  of  the  great  iron  caldron,  and  the 
bombardment  begins. 

Again  and  again  the  lower  tiers  of  the  tank  are  punctured 
by  the  shot,  and  at  each  report  slender  streams  of  oil  and 
volumes  of  gas  pour  forth  and  burn  harmlessly.  This  action 
is  taken  to  prevent  or  delay  the  dreaded  overflow  ;  and  the 
ditch  and  embankment  are  intended  to  check  the  burning 
streams  of  oil  in  their  rush  toward  the  other  tanks,  if  the 
overflow  occurs. 

The  overflows  are  regulated  by  conditions  of  which 
engineers  have  no  certain  knowledge.  Nevertheless,  it  is 
believed  that  the  surface  of  the  oil  undergoes  a  constant  change 
while  burning,  the  lighter  parts  being  consumed,  and  the 
heavier  parts  remaining  in  the  form  of  a  dense,  heavy  scum. 
Powerful  gases  generated  from  the  lighter  parts  below  in  the 
great  caldron  are  gradually  confined  by  the  thickening  of  this 
surface  scum,  until,  steadily  accumulating  and  expanding  by 
reason  of  the  constantly  increasing  heat  above,  they  force  their 
way  irresistibly  upward. 

These  vapors,  which  rise  from  ordinary  petroleum  at  as  low 
a  temperature  as  forty-five  degrees,  are  by  and  by  brought  into 
contact  with  the  under  surface  of  the  thick  scum,  which  is 
heated  to  a  temperature  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  degrees,  and 
by  reason  of  this  sudden  contact  they  expand  with  frightful 
rapidity  and  power,  causing  an  explosion  that  forces  the  thick 
scum  and  a  flood  of  light  oil  over  the  sides  of  the  tank,  and 
drives  every  living  creature  out  of  the  neighborhood. 

The  puncturing  of  the  sides  of  the  tank  allows  much  of  the 
powerful  gas  to  escape,  and  the  overflow  is  either  prevented  or 


AN  OII.-COIINTRY  CRATKR. 


49 


made  less  formidable.  One  of  the  most  dangerous  features  of 
an  overflow  is  the  fact  that,  aside  from  a  slight  diminution 
of  the  heat,  the  terrible  visitation  is  as  unheralded  and  swift 
as  the  lightning  flash  that  fired  the  crater.  Firemen,  pipe-line 
employes  and  spectators  who  are  anywhere  within  a  thousand 
feet  of  the  tank  flee  for  their  lives  when  this  explosion  takes 
place. 

During  the  overflow  of  a  thirty-five-thousand-barrel  tank  in 
the  Acme  Refinery  Yard  at  Olean,  New  York,  in  1880,  leaves 
upon  trees  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant  were  shrivelled  by  the 
intense  heat. 

Fortunately  the  terrible  visitation  continues  but  a  few 
seconds.  If  it  lasted  long,  the  destruction  of  property  and  loss 
of  life  would  often  reach  frightful  proportions. 

Olean  has  been  for  many  years  the  largest  storage  point  for 
crude  petroleum  in  the  world.  It  is  almost  encircled  by  huge 
iron  tanks,  each  containing  thirty-five  thousand  barrels  of  oil. 
There  are,  I  believe,  four  hundred  or  five  hundred  of  them,  and 
they  dot  the  hills  and  unpopulated  districts  about  the  town. 

To  the  westward,  along  the  banks  of  the  Allegheny  River, 
lies  one  of  the  interesting  sights  of  the  oil  country,  a  City  of 
Tanks.  At  this  point  the  iron  receptacles  are  stationed  with 
geometrical  accuracy  in  long  rows,  like  the  houses  of  a  town, 
and  the  open  spaces  between  the  rows  resemble  streets. 


Earle  H.  Eaton. 


The  Mound -Builders. 


In  the  states  south  of  the  Great  I^akes  there  are  a  great 
many  artificial  mounds.  They  differ  much  in  size,  some  being 
insignificant  mounds  a  few  yards  in  diameter,  while  others  are 
huge  earthworks,  like  the  one  in  Ohio  called  Fort  Ancient,  the 
embankments  of  which  extend  nearly  three  miles  in  a  straight 
line,  or  like  the  Cahokia  Mound  in  Illinois,  just  across  the  river 
from  St.  Louis,  which  is  one  hundred  feet  high  and  covers 
about  sixteen  acres. 

The  mounds  vary  as  much  in  shape  as  they  do  in  size. 
Some  are  almost  conical,  with  steep  sides  ;  some  are  oval  or 
rectangular,  with  gently  sloping  sides,  and  some  are  mere 
terraces  of  earth. 

Others  may  be  mentioned  which  are  not  properly  to  be 
classed  with  mounds  at  all.  They  are  simply  figures  in  relief 
of  animals  and  birds,  made  by  banking  up  the  earth  in  such 
a  way  as  to  form  rude  outline  effigies. 

Thus  differing,  it  is  evident  that  the  mounds  cannot  have 
been  erected  for  one  purpose,  but  that  their  uses,  if  not  so  varied 
as  their  size  and  shape,  were  at  least  manifold. 

From  the  earliest  times  of  white  settlement,  the  mounds  have 
been  objects  of  speculation  and  inquiry,  and  many  conjectures 
have  been  made  as  to  their  origin  and  purpose,  but  for  a  long 
time  they  were  enshrouded  in  mystery. 

When  questioned  as  to  their  origin  and  use,  the  Indians 
are  said  to  have  professed  utter  ignorance.  The  mounds 
were  in  the  country  when  they  came,  they  said  ;  but  when  and 
by  whom  and.  for  what  purpose  they  were  made,  they  did  not 
know.  So  these  ancient  monuments  came  to  be  regarded  as 
connected  with  a  race  different  from  the  Indian,  which  had 
previously  occupied  the  country  and  for  some  mysterious  reason 
had  left  it. 

Some  thought  that  the  builders  of  the  mounds  had  been 


THE  MOUND-BUILDERS. 


51 


exterminated  by  the  fiercer  and  more  savage  Indian  tribes ; 
others  thought  it  more  probable  that  they  had  been  driven  away 
to  Mexico  and  Central  America,  where  they  were  supposed  to 
have  become  so  far  civilized  as  to  be  able  to  construct  the 
wonderful  temples  and  houses  of  that  region. 

But  within  recent  years  another  and  very  different  opinion 
respecting  the  mounds  and  their  builders  has  gained  ground, 
until  it  has  nearly  supplanted  the  old  one.  This  is  that  there  is 
nothing  so  very  mysterious  about  them  after  all.  As  students 
came  to  study  historical  records  a  little  more  closely,  it  was 


Serpent  Mound  in  Ohio. 


found  that  not  only  did  certain  of  the  Indian  tribes  know  much 
about  the  mounds,  but  that  they  were  the  actual  builders  of 
some  of  them. 

Moreover,  when  some  of  the  mounds  were  dug  into  and 
objects  of  European  manufacture  found  far  beneath  the  surface, 
it  became  evident  that  these  must  have  been  built  since 
Columbus  made  his  mistake  and  called  our  aborigines  Indians 
because  he  supposed  he  had  landed  on  the  shores  of  India. 

At  present  it  is  held  that  many  of  the  mounds  were  built  b}^ 
the  tribes  which  were  found  in  possession  of  the  countr}^  when 
it  was  discovered  by  Columbus,  and  that  the  older  mounds  about 
which  Indian  tradition  was  silent  were  simply  those  which  were 


52 


THE  MOUND-BUILDERS. 


raised  long  ago  by  the  ancestors  of  the  present  tribes  ;  in  short, 
that  all  the  mounds  are  Indian  mounds,  and  that  to  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  their  uses  and  the  meaning  of  their  contents  we 
must  study  Indian  habits  and  customs.  To  interpret  these 
habits  and  customs  correctly  is  to  read  the  riddle  of  the  mounds. 

Thanks,  then,  to  the  earnest  labors  of  those  who  have 
patiently  explored  the  mounds  themselves  and  of  others  who 
have  diligently  studied  living  tribes  and  searched  into  musty 
historical  records,  it  is  now  possible  to  explain  the  chief  motives 
of  those  who  raised  the  mounds,  as  well  as  the  uses  of  many  of 
the  curious  implements  found  therein. 

Doubtless  much  yet  remains  to  be  done  ere  the  past  can  be 
fully  reconstructed,  and  we  can  claim  to  know  all  the  secrets 
of  the  Mound-Builders,  if  indeed  so  much  as  this  is  ever  to  be 
hoped  for.  But,  judging  from  the  success  of  past  years,  the 
future  is  full  of  promise. 

It  was  soon  found  that  a  very  large  number  of  mounds  were 
simple  burial-places. 

While  the  notions  held  by  our  Indians  respecting  a  future 
state  agreed  in  a  general  way,  there  were  yet  many  minor 
differences.  All  seem  to  have  believed  that  the  existence  of 
the  individual  did  not  cease  with  death,  but  that  there  was 
another  life  more  or  less  closely  resembling  the  present  one. 

According  to  Indian  ideas,  the  present  body  was  closely 
connected  with  this  future  existence,  and  all  tribes  paid  great 
attention  to  the  proper  burial  of  their  dead.  Many  tribes 
burned  the  bodies,  as  did  the  old  Greeks  and  Romans.  Some 
deposited  them  upon  scaffolds  out  of  the  way  of  wild  animals  ; 
others  laid  them  carefully  away  in  caves  ;  while  still  others 
buried  them  in  the  ground. 

But  whatever  their  form  of  burial,  all  tribes  paid  particular 
attention  to  the  care  and  protection  of  the  bones.  It  was  natural 
that  they  should,  for  the  bones  are  the  most  imperishable  part 
of  the  body,  and  with  them  is  closely  connected  the  idea  of  a 
spirit,  or  soul,  as  we  call  it,  crude  though  that  notion  is  in  Indian 
philosophy. 


THK  MOUND-BUILDKRS. 


53 


After  much  ceremony,  and  doubtless  with  much  lamentation 
and  many  tears, —  for  savages  are  very  demonstrative  in  their 
grief,  —  the  body  was  placed  on  the  ground  or  upon  a  terrace  of 
clay.  Around  it  was  gathered  the  property  of  the  deceased, 
especially  those  articles  which  were  considered  useful  in  his 
after  life,  such  as  a  water- vessel  or  two,  some  food,  paint  for 
decorating  the  body,  and  so  on.  A  fire  was  then  built  over  the 
whole,  and  after  it  had  burned  long 
and  fiercely,  earth  was  brought  in 
baskets  and  heaped  over  all.  /  /  

Thus  the  heap  of  earth  above  it   I,.  

served  two  purposes  :  to  protect  the    y-'  -  ,  

remains,  and  as  a  monument.   Doubt-  1    |  "  

less  the  richer  and  more  distinguished  |  f 

the  deceased,  the  larger  and  more  |  I 

imposing  the  mound.  \  J 

It  was  the  habit  of  many  tribes  Bj^c 
to  bury  their  dead  in  the  ground  or 

expose  them  on  scaffolds  until  the  flesh  disappeared  ;  and  then, 
perhaps  at  stated  intervals,  to  gather  the  bones  together  and 
deposit  them  in  an  indiscriminate  heap.  On  these  occasions 
their  friends  sacrificed  such  objects  of  value  as  were  most 
appropriate,  or  such  as  would  best  express  their  grief  and  love. 
Thus  the  mounds  often  mark  the  last  resting-place  of  a  group  of 
persons  who  probably  were  connected  by  tribal  or  kinship  ties. 

Some  tribes  buried  the  bodies  outstretched  in  a  horizontal 
posture  ;  others  folded  the  limbs  tightly  against  the  body  ;  and 
others  still  wrapped  the  bones  into  a  compact  bundle.  Some 
buried  in  stone  receptacles  ;  others  enclosed  the  body  in  bark 
or  in  rudely  woven  blankets  and  clothing. 

All  of  these  methods  appear  in  the  burial-mounds.  Fortu- 
nately, when  the  bodies  were  cremated,  in  many  cases  the  fire 
only  half  did  its  work,  and  many  of  the  objects  sacrificed  on 
these  occasions  have  been  unearthed,  as  well  as  many  of  the 
skulls  and  half-charred  bones. 

The  list  of  objects  taken  from  the  mounds  includes  everything 


54 


THK  MOUND-BUILDKRS. 


dear  to  the  Indian  mind.  That  it  was  believed  the  deceased 
would  need  his  weapons  in  the  next  world  or  on  his  way  there 
is  evident  from  the  numerous  arrow  and  spear  heads  found. 
Personal  ornaments  were  deemed  essential,  and  vast  numbers 
of  shell  beads,  pearls,  copper  trinkets  and  stone  carvings  of 
ceremonial  or  religious  import  appear  in  the  mounds. 

The  Indian  was  always  fond  of  athletic  games  as  well  as 
those  of  more  questionable  morality,  such  as  gambling;  and 
objects  used  in  these  games  are  of  frequent  occurrence. 
Everything  cherished  by  the  Indian  as  a  protection  from  the  evil 
and  disease  spirits,  by  which  the  Indian  world  was  peopled,  was 
carefully  included,  and  charms  of  various  sorts  are  commonly 
found  with  the  bodies. 

Many  of  the  objects  found  in  the  mounds,  such  as  the 
carvings,  are  finely  made,  and  show  much  taste  on  the  part  of 
their  makers.  Before  these  had  been  carefully  studied,  it  was 
assumed  that  they  were  finer  than  anything  the  Indian 
produced.  This  conviction  strengthened  the  opinion  that  those 
who  made  the  objects  could  not  have  been  Indians. 

But  those  who  maintained  this  opinion  forgot  that  the  first 
and  inevitable  effect  upon  a  savage  people  of  contact  with 
civilization,  is  to  deteriorate  their  manufactures.  The  savage, 
finding  the  tools  of  civilization  better,  gradually  ceases  to  make 
his  own  ;  and  as  he  abandons  them,  he  loses  his  old  skill,  and 
becomes  indifferent  to  beauty  and  nicety  of  finish. 

When,  therefore,  the  most  artistic  and  best  finished  objects 
from  the  mounds  are  compared  with  similar  ones  made  by 
Indians  whose  handiwork  has  not  suffered  by  contact  with 
civilization,  Indian  art  suffers  little  or  nothing  by  the 
comparison. 

To  raise  such  immense  works  as  the  Cahokia  Mound  must 
have  required  great  labor,  and  the  size  of  the  mounds  has  been 
urged  as  a  reason  to  suppose  that  Indians  could  not  have 
produced  them.  But  it  would  require  no  more  labor  for  a 
comparatively  few  men  and  women  to  throw  up  a  mound  in 
a  long  time,  than  for  many  to  build  it  in  a  short  time  ;  and  no 


THK  MOUND-BUII.DKRS. 


55 


I 

! 
I 


doubt  to  build  such  mounds  as  that  of  Cahokia  must  have 
required  many  years,  perhaps  successive  generations. 

Moreover,  the  very  rude   methods  employed  in  mound- 
building  are  strikingly  suggestive  of  Indian  work.    In  the 
case  of  certain  mounds,  it  has  been  possible 
to  trace  the  successive  baskets   of   earth  as  / •\ 

they  were  dumped  from  the  shoulders  of  the  C  ) 

dusky  carriers.  '\  ( 

In  many  places  there  are  embankments  of 
earth  in  the  shape  of  squares  or  parallelograms,       ' '/  \ 
the  appearance  of  which  too  closely  suggests  j  \ 

rude  fortifications  for  their  purpose  to  be  mis- 
taken. They  were  defensive  works,  places  of 
refuge.  Such  in  fact  was  Old  Fort  Ancient, 
which  may  have  been  the  work  of  generations 
of  Indians  ;  and  within  its  ample  interior  were 
probably  gathered,  in  times  of  danger,  the  I  \ 

tribes  that  inhabited  the  neighboring  valleys.  \| 

Evidences  of  village  sites  within  its  enclosure 
indicate  that  in  troublesome  times  villages  were 
established  and  occupied  for  considerable  periods.  Doubtless 
grounds  were  prepared  for  the   celebration  of  such  feasts, 
councils,  games  and  ceremonials  as  always  attended  Indian 
social,  religious  or  tribal  proceedings. 

There  is  another  class  of  mounds  of  various  shapes  and 
sizes,  which  apparently  were  the  sites  of  large  houses,  where 
dwelt  together  several  families  of  the  same  clan,  or  of  council- 
houses,  which  were  partly  for  religious  and  partly  for  social 
use. 

Most  curious  of  all  are  the  Effigy  Mounds  in  Wisconsin,  a 
group  of  which,  found  in  Grant  County,  in  that  state,  are 
shown  in  the  illustrations.  These  relief  figures  of  beasts  and 
birds  are  often  made  on  a  gigantic  scale,  and  from  the  nature 
of  their  construction  are  necessarily  so  rude  that  they  can 
rarely  be  identified  as  of  any  particular  species,  and  the 
attempt  to  identify  them  has  often  resulted  in  false  conclusions. 


56 


THK  MOUND-BUlIvDKRS. 


Thus  one  mound  in  Ohio  long  passed  as  the  effigy  of  a 
mastodon  or  elephant  ;  and  as  this  creature  has  been  supposed 
to  be  extinct  for  a  considerable  period,  the  effect  of  this 
identification  was  to  bring  the  existence  of  the  animal  down  to 
a  very  recent  date,  perhaps  to  historical  times,  or  else  to  carry 
the  origin  of  this  particular  mound  far  back  into  the  past. 

Now,  however,  the  proboscis  of  the  animal,  upon  which 
chiefly  rested  the  theory  of  its  elephantine  nature,  has  been 
determined  to  be  a  slide  of  earth.  So  the  effigy  passes  from 
the  list  of  the  marvellous  to  take  its  proper  but  prosaic  place  in 
mound  history  as  the  figure  of  a  bear. 

As  to  the  purpose  of  erecting  these  banks  of  earth  in  the 
shape  of  animals,  students  appear  to  be  pretty  well  agreed. 

Most  Indian  tribes   have  myths  by 

^   /  I      which  they  trace  back  their  origin  to 

f   "    /      certain    animals,    as    bears,  otters, 

 ,  \        snakes  and  birds. 

/  """""1  /     \J  The   figures   of    these  supposed 

\  I  \  ancestors  became  totem  marks,  and 

are    tattooed    on    the    persons  and 
^^^"^^  pictured   on   the  houses   and  other 

property  of  the  Indians.  The  well-known  totem  posts  of  the 
Haida  Indians  of  Alaska  are  good  examples. 

Instead  of  contenting  themselves  by  carving  their  totems  on 
their  houses,  weapons  or  other  property,  or  painting  them  on 
their  skins,  the  Wisconsin  tribes  adopted  a  unique  plan,  and 
raised  on  the  bosom  of  Mother  Earth  their  effigy  monuments, 
commemorative  of  their  mythic  ancestral  beliefs.  So  inscribed, 
nature  has  kindly  assisted  in  their  preservation  ;  and  though 
other  and  more  costly  monuments  crumble  away,  the  effigy 
mounds  live  on,  mute  witnesses  of  the  cherished  beliefs  of  a 
people  whose  past  history  is  a  cloudland  of  conjecture. 


Prof.  H.  W.  Hknshaw. 


Mammoth  Cave. 


On  an  interesting  occasion  I  received  as  a  gift  a  velvet  case 
containing  a  solid  silver  key  inscribed,  "From  the  Manager 
and  Guides  of  Mammoth  Cave."  It  was  a  real  key  of  the  iron 
door  at  the  entrance  of  the  great  cave. 

Thus  it  happens  that  I  have  the  privilege  of  unlocking  the 
gate  of  the  great  cave  for  myself,  and  freely  exploring  its  nooks 
and  corners  ;  and  by  the  aid  of  this  key  I  was  able  to  prepare 
the  map  of  Mammoth  Cave  which  accompanies  this  article, 
and  from  which  a  faint  idea  may  be  had  of  its  winding  mazes. 

One  day  I  ventured  to  go  alone  into  the  gloomy  caverns. 
No  more  peril  lurked  along  the  familiar  path  through  the 
main  cave  than  might  have  been  met  in  almost  any  rock}^ 
ravine.  The  powers  of  darkness  may  be  safely  defied  by  a 
man  armed  with  lamps,  braided  oil-rags,  plenty  of  matches, 
and  a  coil  of  magnesium  ribbon.  Fear  was  tempered  to  an 
agreeable  sense  of  awe. 

No  pause  was  made  till  the  Star  Chamber  was  reached, 
with  whose  fantastic  illusions  every  visitor  to  the  cave  is 
familiar.  These  were  reproduced  as  long  as  I  desired,  with 
the  discovery  that  the  more  intense  the  artificial  light,  the 
brighter  the  stars  seemed  to  shine  in  the  blue  sky  overhead. 

Not  one  visitor  in  five  hundred  advances  to  the  grand 
portions  of  the  main  cave  that  lie  beyond  ;  they  all  turn  back 
to  explore  the  minor  branches.  I  went  on.  For  a  thousand 
yards  there  is  a  succession  of  noble  rooms,  strewn  with  lime- 
stone blocks  of  every  size  and  shape,  like  the  ruins  of  some  old 
castle  of  Giant  Despair.  Here  are  black  chambers,  appalling 
in  their  funereal  gloom. 

Turning  to  the  right  I  approached  roaring'  cataracts  that 
fall  from  a  great  height  and  instantly  vanish  in  a  profound 
abyss.  Beyond  them  arise  the  walls  and  pinnacles  of  the 
Chief  City,  once  the  resort  of  Indian  sagamores  and  dusky 


58 


MAMMOTH  CAVK. 


braves,  who  left  as  relics  their  torches,  sandals,  arrow-tips  and 
battle-axes. 

Here  I  made  an  experiment  that  taxed  my  nerves  ;  I  blew 
out  my  lamps.  The  black  darkness  seemed  to  become  a 
palpable  and  solid  thing  about  me.  Sounds  were  magnified  ; 
I  heard  the  cave  rats  scamper  over  the  rocks  and  the  uncanny 
bats  flutter  by.  The  throbbing  of  my  heart  was  audible.  A 
whisper  or  a  sigh  was  mysteriously  wafted  to  the  farthest 
limit  of  the  enormous  dome. 

The  excited  fancy  conjured  up  all  sorts  of  illusions  in  the 


midnight  gloom.  Ghosts  of  the  Mound-Builders  came  hovering 
round.  How  thankful  I  was  for  the  box  of  matches  clutched 
in  my  fist,  a  single  one  of  which  had  power  to  put  to  flight  an 
army  of  goblins  !  The  match  was  .struck,  its  tiny  blaze  was 
applied  to  the  narrow  strip  of  magnesium  tape,  the  towering- 
crags  flashed  again  into  view,  and  above  them  swelled  the 
proud  arches  of  the  Chief  Cit}^ 

The  solitary  intruder  into  this  domain  of  imps  and  gnomes 


MAMMOTH  CAVR. 


59 


was  satisfied,  and  groped  his  way  back  safely  to  the  hotel,  and 
the  just  reprimand  awaiting  him  from  the  anxious  manager. 

The  regular  routes  through  the  cave,  one  way,  do  not  cover 
more  than  tw^enty  miles,  while  the  total  length  of  all  known 
avenues  exceeds  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  Of  the  five 
thousand  tourists  who  annually  enter  the  rocky,  moss-grown, 
vine-clad  vestibule,  very  few  wander  from  the  beaten  paths 
which  can  be  comfortably  traversed  in  a  day  or  two. 

Almost  all  visitors  hasten  past  Audubon  Avenue,  the  first 
right-hand  branch  from  the  main  cave ;  yet  it  equals  in 
grandeur  many  places  over  which  people  go  into  raptures. 
It  opens  from  a  vast  rotunda  strewn  with  pipes,  pumps  and 
vats,  relics  of  the  saltpetre  works  of  1812,  from  which  our 
warlike  fathers  obtained  the  means  of  making  gunpowder. 

From  this  avenue  miners  carted  off  countless  loads  of 
nitrous  earth,  in  doing  which  they  exhumed  gigantic  skeletons, 
and  had  many  strange  adventures. 

If  our  visit  is  in  winter  we  are  amazed  at  the  myriads  of 
bats  that  hang,  head  downward,  in  broad  clusters  as  dense  as 
swarming  bees.  They  look  like  sealskin  sacks  tacked 
against  the  ceiling  ;  but  when  the  guide  rubs  them  with  his 
rough  hand  every  tiny  mouth  flies  open,  changing  the  brown 
robe  to  a  scarlet  cushion. 

The  road  is  smooth  and  level.  All  the  rocky  slabs  are 
skilfully  piled  into  stone  walls.  And  what  are  those  newly- 
raked  beds,  right  and  left,  extending  for  hundreds  of  yards 
under  this  noble  arched  way  of  fifty  feet  span  ?  We  seem 
to  be  in  a  garden  man}^  acres  in  extent,  stretching  along  as  far 
as  the  eye  can  reach,  even  when  aided  by  chemical  fires. 

This  is  indeed  a  garden  ;  it  is  the  Mammoth  Cave  mushroom 
farm,  on  which  six  thousand  dollars  were  spent  under  French 
experts  to  get  it  into  running  order,  and  whence  the  manager 
hopes  to  supply  the  markets  of  our  American  cities.  A  shaft 
for  ventilation  and  irrigation  has  been  sunk  from  the  outside. 

That  smaller  opening  from  Audubon  Avenue  leads  to  the 
long,  winding  channel  of  an  ancient  torrent,  and  is  called  the 


6o 


MAMMOTH  CAVK. 


lyittle  Bat  room.  Tread  carefully  under  these  low-browed 
arches,  blackened  by  the  torches  of  the  miners.  It  is  a  spot 
from  which  heedless  visitors  are  wisely  excluded. 

That  ugly  black  crevice,  toward  which  the  floor  so  treacher- 
ously slopes,  yawns  into  a  pit  down  which  a  reckless  miner 


once  dropped  his  lamp.  A  sprightly  young  negro  was  lowered 
to  recover  it.  He  returned  empty-handed,  and  having,  as  it 
was  thought,  lost  his  wits  ;  for  he  reported  having  seen  a 
marvellous  temple,  rivalling  the  wonders  of  the  Arabian 
Nights'  Entertainments. 

But  thirty  years  later  that  very  temple  was  approached  from 
another  direction  ;  at  one  end  of  it  is  a  cataract  a  hundred  feet 


MAMMOTH  CAVK. 


6l 


or  more  in  height,  while  at  the  other  end  rise  pillars  eighty 
feet  high.    And  on  the  floor  lay  the  rusty  old  lamp  ! 

Surprises  continually  await  cave-hunters.  Guides  plodding 
homeward  one  day  from  Croghan's  Hall,  the  extreme  end  of 
the  Long  Route,  were  astonished  to  see  a  volume  of  smoke 
issue  from  a  crevice  in  the  Serpent  Hall.  They  fled  hastily 
across  Echo  River.  There  they  found  workmen  pitching  a 
boat  and  making  a  great  smoke. 

This  gave  them  a  hint  that  an  undiscovered  passage  existed 
between  the  Serpent  Hall  and  the  main  cave.  The  reader  will 
find  it  indicated  on  the  map  ;  but  its  true  crookedness  could 
not  be  drawn  on  so  small  a  scale. 

In  company  with  two  guides,  I  completed  a  survey  of 
Ganter  Avenue,  as  we  call  this  passage.  At  first  the  guides 
thought  it  to  be  about  four  miles  long,  and  it  certainly  seems 
so.  But  it  is  really  eighty-five  hundred  feet  in  length,  and 
probably  makes  a  twist  as  often  as  once  in  twenty  feet. 

It  is  a  combination  of  three  different  avenues,  on  as  many 
different  levels.  The  connection  between  them  is  made  by  a 
stairway  of  one  hundred  solid  stone  steps,  which  we  named 
Rider  Haggard's  Flight,  in  honor  of  the  author  of  King 
Solomon's  Mines.  The  avenue  was  originally  from  forty  to 
sixty  feet  high,  and  from  six  inches  to  ten  feet  wide. 

By  assiduous  labor  Mr.  Ganter,  the  manager,  had  a  stone 
floor  laid  midway  of  the  avenue  where  the  crevice  widens.  The 
pick  and  blast  w^ere  used  wherever  needed,  so  that  now 
any  one  who  wishes  to  do  so  can  thread  the  entire  passage 
easily. 

Its  main  advantage  is  that  it  affords  a  safe  exit  from  the 
regions  beyond  the  rivers,  in  case  of  an  overflow.  But  even 
yet  portions  of  Ganter  Avenue  are  so  narrow  that  if  two 
persons  meet,  one  must  lie  down  and  let  the  other  walk  over 
him. 

"  What  is  there  beyond  that  rocky  ledge?  "  said  I  to  one 
of  the  guides,  as  we  stood  in  River  Hall.  He  replied  that  he 
did  not  know,  but  would  like  to  find  out. 


62  MAMMOTH  CAVE. 


We  found  a  wide,  low  avenue  in  which  no  footprints  were 
visible.  Soon  we  had  to  go  on  our  hands  and  knees,  crawling 
through  the  finest,  cleanest  yellow  sand.  It  was  plainly  the 
dry  bed  of  an  ancient  river.  F'or  half  an  hour  we  pursued  our 
toilsome  way,  till  suddenly  we  came  out  into  Pensico  Avenue. 

I  remained  awhile  at  the  Bottomless  Pit,  amusing  myself  by 
throwing  fire-balls  into  it.    Being  saturated  with  oil,  the  balls 

floated  to  and  fro  on  the  water 
and  lighted  up  the  walls  of  the 
chasm  grandly.  Such  chasms 
are  styled  pits  or  domes,  accord- 
ing to  the  point  of  view.  They 
cut  through  all  the  levels  of  the 
cavern. 

The  sandy  way  by  which  we 
had  come  was  one  of  the  higher 
and  more  ancient  channels  by 
which  this  subterranean  region 
was  formerly  drained.  The  tor- 
tuous passage  called  Fat  Man's 
Misery  drained  it  at  a  later  era.  Still  lower  channels  were 
subsequently  found,  one  opening  midway  into  the  pits,  and 
another  draining  them  from  the  very  bottom. 

One  of  the  guides  made  his  way  through  this  lowest 
passage,  and  found  that  half  a  dozen  of  the  pits  were  united 
into  one  vast  room  which,  by  special  permission  of  the 
President,  we  named  Harrison's  Hall. 

While  trying  to  measure  a  pit  not  visited  before,  a  ponderous 
rock  was  dislodged  just  above  me,  and  whirling  by  so  close  as 
to  graze  my  shins,  fell  more  than  a  hundred  feet  with  a  crash 
into  the  abyss.  Other  fragments  followed  it  until  the  cavernous 
echoes  awakened  were  like  a  volley  of  thunder. 

Speaking  of  echoes,  let  us  take  a  ride  on  Echo  River  before 
leaving  the  cave.  It  is  worth  a  trip  from  Boston  to  Kentucky, 
merely  to  float  for  an  hour  on  those  magical  waters.  The 
phenomena  have  been  frequently  described ;  but  most  visitors 


MAMMOTH  CAVE. 


63 


are  so  in  love  with  their  own  voices  as  to  miss  the  finest  effects 
of  all. 

The  guide  rows  us  to  exactly  the  right  spot  in  this  long 
and  deep  underground  river.  Here  the  rocky  arches  meet  the 
water  vertically,  and  without  a  shore ;  but  the  waves  lap 
musically  into  a  thousand  little  cavities  as  we  row  along. 

This  is  only  the  gentle  prelude.  For  now,  while  uttering 
certain  peculiarly  mellow  vocal  sounds  harmonizing  with  the 
keynote  of  the  passageway,  the  guide  rocks  the  boat  to  and 
fro,  so  that  we  must  hold  to  the  gunwales  to  keep  from  being 
thrown  overboard.  And  then  begins  a  concert  that,  if  not 
interrupted,  may  last  fully  half  an  hour. 

First  comes  a  sound  like  the  tinkling  of  silver  bells. 
I^arger,  heavier  bells  take  up  the  melody,  as  the  billows  caused 


by  the  rocking  of  the  boat  strike  the  cavities  in  the  wall.  Then 
it  seems  as  if  the  chimes  of  many  cathedrals  had  conspired 
to  raise  in  this  strange  place  a  tempest  of  sweet  sounds. 

The  music  dies  away,  and  ghostly  mutterings  ensue.  Many 
voices  seem  to  whisper,  chatter  and  cry.  They  laugh,  as  if  in 
glee,  and  anon  shriek  as  if  in  agony.  Then  all  is  silent. 
We  are  about  to  speak,  when  the  guide  makes  a  sign  to  keep 


64 


MAMMOTH  CAVE. 


still ;  and  we  sit  in  curious  expectation.  I^o  !  as  if  from  some 
deep  recess  hitherto  forgotten,  comes  a  tone  tender  and  pro- 
found; after  which,  like  gentle  memories,  the  mellow  sounds 
that  had  been  heard  before  awake  again,  until  River  Hall 
rings  anew  with  the  wondrous  harmony. 

Amid  the  alabaster  flowers  of  Mammoth  Cave  the  fancy 
finds  the  mimicry  of  every  blossom,  from  the  modest  daisy  to 
the  flaunting  sunflower.  The  floral  avenues  open  to  the  public 
have  been  marred  by  covetous  or  careless  visitors.  A  rumor 
had  reached  me  of  a  secluded  chamber,  known  as  Charlotte's 

Grotto,  where  the  wildest  flower 
dream  of  the  cave-hunter  would 
be  realized. 

On  hearing  a  comely  colored 
matron  accosted  as  Aunt  Char- 
lotte, I  asked  her  if  she  knew  of 
the  grotto,  on  the  venture  that 
it  derived  its  name  from  her. 

"  Law,  yes,  chile  !  "  said  she; 
"that  grotto's  named  for  me. 
My  poor  dead  husband  found  it  and  gave  it  my  name.  I 
reckon  one  of  my  boys  can  take  you  to  it." 

Her  reckoning  was  not  amiss.  I  was  taken  to  it ;  and  there 
I  found  what  seemed  to  be  fringes  of  the  night-blooming 
cereus,  clumps  of  lilies,  spikes  of  tuberoses,  drooping  fuchsias, 
wax-leaved  magnolias,  every  gem  of  the  greenhouse  and 
parterre  ;  only  the  snowy  plumes  were  all  of  spotless  alabaster. 

H.  C.  HovKY. 


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